…or, the men’s bathroom in
Veniero’s.
Veniero’s will make you happy to be male, maybe even proud.
The place is Italian, so maybe that’s the point.
And in the end, it’s not the fact of being male – being a penis possessor – that really makes you proud, but getting the ticket to see the sights. Being male is a question of form and maybe a question of essence – while this is nothing more than a trick of observation. Eye candy. A feast, if you will. Or even if you won’t, cause there’s little choice in the matter.
In the end, it’s an assault. An assault on decency. An assault on expectations. You can’t help it. It’s all around you…
It’s a simple trick to be sure: mount a few mirrors all about, and mount the oh so important mirror where no one expects it – dead ahead in front of the toilet, in front of your eye, in front of your…. well, yes. And the reflections grow on their own accord. (They do that. Clever, eh?)
There’s no need for modesty here. Ha! There’s no hope for modesty here.
Every thing ya got is laid bare right in front of your eyes. And to left of your eyes. And to the right of your eyes. And on and on and on and on… Infinity and beyond, like a cheap parlor trick.
And why is this shocking? How many thousands of times have I seen my own cock? How many thousands of other cocks have I seen in my life? We tend to get a little jaded by all this… a little unimpressed. And why shouldn’t we? A little bit of flesh here and there – nothing really all that more important than a hand or a foot or a nose.
But this feels like revelation. A new awareness – a new sight – a new approach.
Something fresh.
I’ll tell ya what it is. You rarely, if ever, get to glimpse your own urinary tract in action from the other way around. It really is a stunning perspective. Cocks (your cocks) plastered all over the walls in all directions and every single last one of em is peeing. How remarkable.
But maybe I’m just easily amused. That’s been mentioned before.