Well, here’s the deal: It was fucking disappointing. I walked all over town trying to find a suitable place to pee on a frozen chain link fence, and then when I finally did it two cars still managed to drive past, one of which was a guy delivering pizza to the very hotel where I’m staying (he’s swinging by a medium pepperoni later).
Here’s the thing: the pee didn’t do anything special. I don’t know i thought it would do, but I at least expected it would do something a little more extreme than the snow and frozen things I’ve peed on in the past. But why should it? When I lived in Minnesota, it regularly got this cold, especially with windchill. And I used to pee on things all the time. When you’re a kid, making yellow snow in extremely cold temperatures is one of the most satisfying things you can do. You’re entranced as the steaming hot liquid that was just in your body cuts through the icy snow like a diamond blade cutting through a hunk of soap stone. As an adult, it’s slightly less satisfying. Slightly. We adults seem to enjoy more “intellectual” pursuits, like golf and CNN. Basically, when you become an adult, life gets fucking boring, so it’s your job to do random shit to make it more fun, even if that random shit is often slightly immature and slightly embarrassing. Which is why, tomorrow, I’m going to poop in the middle of the road.
I invite those of you who think I’m lying to buy a ticket up to Barrow, Alaska, for tomorrow and meet me at the intersection of Ahkovak and Okpik streets at 11am. Afterward we can go to Pepe’s. Actually, maybe we should go to Pepe’s beforehand…