I know, I know, this is SUCH a trivial problem it seems insensitive to blog about it. The pandemic is killing thousands of people a day, wreaking economic havoc around the world, and I’m bitching about this.

On the other hand, maybe a trivial complaint could be a good distraction.

And don’t worry, I promise not to post any pictures. Personal ones, that is.

Just over two weeks ago, Spain started easing lockdown restrictions. What’s allowed and when, is determined by a complex set of scientifically-based metrics, such as transmission rates, number of ICU beds, capacity to scale up emergency beds, etc. The easing of restrictions are then adjusted by each autonomous region based on how well they are doing. This includes hours of exercise for different age groups, types of restaurants and stores allowed to open, and amounts of people who can gather in various locations. Listening to Fernando Simon, our wild-haired, super-hero doctor, “I won’t ever wear a suit to a press briefing,” equivalent of Dr. Fauci, it sounds as if no stones have been left unturned.

But hello–here’s one stone that’s a little bit wetter than it was only a few days ago.

Where the F are women supposed to pee?

In this phase one we are currently in, restaurants and bars are only allowed to serve take-out, or, table service at outdoor tables. It is strictly forbidden to go inside an establishment, even to use the bathroom. (Or at least that’s what multiple bars and coffee shops have told me). The usual places with public bathrooms such as libraries and cultural centers all remain closed.

I have a pretty big bladder so normally I might not have noticed, but about three weeks ago–right before were allowed back outside–I came down with a massive case of allergy-induced sinus congestion inside the middle of my head. In order to unblock this blockage, I’ve snorted 120ml of high pressure saline straight up my nostrils; these jets shoots salt water straight into my brain and then down my throat. The feeling is not unlike the one you get when a wave turns you upside down and you feel like half of the ocean is up your nose. (At first I found this unpleasant, but then I realized it was the closest I was going to get to the ocean for awhile, so now I just close my eyes and pretend I’m going for a swim).

Anyway, that didn’t do the trick, so next up was consuming copious amounts of liquid, as in liters and liters of water and cups and cups of tea. As long as I was at home, I didn’t really notice how many trips I was making to the bathroom.

But on one of my first “free” trips outside to the evening exercise slot, I definitely noticed. I found myself, let’s say “caught,” in Egia, a commercial neighborhood where I was planning to meet a friend for a walk.

“You ready?” she asked, when she found me waiting.

“No,” I said, wiggling my legs very fast, “I have a problem.”

We scouted around and decided that the nearby park was my best bet, in fact, my only bet. We did some recon and decided that I could make a go for it right at 8PM, when everyone would be distracted by the clapping. I climbed a little hill, went behind a bush and shoved myself into a corner behind a wall while my friend stood guard.

But after, I thought: why did she need to stand guard? If I were a man, no one would give a shit.

What would it be like, I wondered, if women could pee as freely as men seem to do, whenever they are outside and near a tree, a wall, anything vertical? In fact, if you think about it, women are the ONLY ones, at least here in Spain and every other country I’ve ever been to, who do not have culturally sanctioned approval to drop their drawers and pee when they need to.

Dog and cats of course go where they like. Little children here are not only allowed, but encouraged to go on the street; in an elaborate ritual that I have not seen performed anywhere else, parents yank down their children’s pants to their ankles, and then hold them above the street, feet and bottoms up so as to not get sprayed.

And boys and men, well we all know, they go where and when they please.

So why can’t women? Is it some prudish thing that we should be more decorous? Is it because we have to remove so much more of our clothing and bare our bottoms? Is it a simple anatomy thing? And if so, surely there must be some apparatus that would facilitate outdoor peeing for women.

Well. Once that thought entered my mind, I couldn’t help it. The first term that came to mind, keeping with the alliteration of this post title, was Portable Penis. Is there even such a thing?

According to Google, yes indeed. Although to discover this, first I had to wade through sex toys, penis pumps, penis enhancers, and, because I didn’t put portable penis in quotes, a story about a man who was using a portable toilet in Australia and got bit by a spider on his–that’s right–penis.

Anyway, there it was, at the bottom of the page–an actual device that looked like it could meet my needs. Actually, turns out there’s a lot of them, but they mostly take on the same shape– a little cup that connects to a tube long enough to draw liquid away from your body. Right now, most of them seem advertised to appeal to outdoorsy women, such as the Tinkle Bell Female Stand to Pee device which is advertised to runners, boaters and hikers.

The technical name for it, actually, is a female urination device, and according to this website, there are at least eleven different models ranging from a few dollars to 25.

The one that comes up highest in the search is this one, from Amazon.

Come on! We already understand that this device is for women because we are anatomically disadvantaged when it comes to public peeing; no need to rub it in.

I have to say, in a weird way, it does look sort of alluring. Imagine, you are wearing a skirt, you need to go, you find a private tree, lift, insert, and voila. No splashing, no bare bottom. Maybe this what we need to get us through the next weeks?

On the other hand, I’m not really sure. Because if you think about it, why should we have to pay anything for the same right that the other half of the human race seems to take for granted?

Seriously women, what if we all just decided that we had every right to pee in those discrete places, against a tree, or a wall, same way the guys do, when it’s an emergency, and we just did it?

I’m not calling for mass urination or anything unsanitary here, just a rethink about something we completely take for granted–that guys can do this and no one bats an eye, whereas we need to either hold it in or beg someone for access to a restroom or have someone stand guard or face complete embarrassment if someone walks by while we are letting go. In fact, one male member of my household who I will not name, actually prefers to pee outside and will do so wherever and whenever he can get away with it. It makes me wonder–is there something pleasingly primitive about an outside pee that we women don’t even know about?

Meanwhile, until the country is fully open, I’m faced with a choice: drink up and stay home, or go out and test my courage for open spaces.

As was the case on Sunday, when my son and I went to meet my mother-in-law for a drink. I was doing fine, really, but then we took a walk, the clock started ticking, and I felt that familiar pressure and then pain.

Red alert! We stopped at a bakery for some sweets, and when I asked the barista if I could use the toilet, again, I was told no, it’s against the rules.

So, back outside, I snuck off quietly and found a not very protected space against a big palm tree and behind a billboard stand on a little patch of grass.

I thought I’d mastered the subtle sneak off, but my mother-in-law practically shouted, DID YOU GO? DID YOU FIND A PLACE?

I nodded, and my son’s face went bright red, silently asking how could you?

See, they truly know not what privilege they have!

But then my mother-in-law nodded, and said me too.

Not that kind of #Me Too, but off she went, returning a few moments later, triumphant.

I don’t have a word to describe the shade of red on my son’s face at that moment.

Anyway, what do we think? Will this be another one of our post-pandemic resets in the world? Obviously of a different scale than all the other inequities laid bare by the virus, but as hot weather approaches, we need to drink, to stay hydrated. Meaning we will need to pee!

How do we do that if there are no culturally sanctioned places for half of us to pee? Do we load up on pink, silicone devices and learn to pee standing up? Or do we brave it out, and drop our drawers, forging ahead with yet another new normal?

Diana Friedman

The Post-Pandemic Pee Pity Party