The wall of pissing

Rough day on the Hill trying to get politicians to understand my reality while trying to understand thier reality. After feeling beat up, I stopped in for some sushi and sake on the way back to my room, still feeling like killing something for fun, I stopped in at the Cafe 1612 for some dessert.

Turns out they don't have dessert, and they couldn't make an espresso martini, but they faked it really well with some Van Gogh espresso vodka. Then the peppered vodka lemon drop, so I'm feeling a little more mellow now (yes, I'm typing this at the bar).

So, with sake, vodka, more vodka and a couple pints of water, I really had to use the restroom, and wow, what a restroom. I admit, it's small, but it makes up for it with a wall of water for a urinal. Take a peek:

I suppose the ladies won't understand, but every guy on the planet has to say, 'Cool.' I mean, think of it, no aiming, just a wall. We all think of it, really, whether we want to admit it or not. Throwing a whizz on the wall is so much more natural than those little porcelne catures, even the nipples to floor pissoir so many bars sport give you so limited latteral movment that the wall of pissing is just… freeing.