Every House Needs One or More

Rennik acknowledged with a grunt the man at the next urinal. The tile made the noise resound like that of a wild beast in its cave.

The man teased with a grin, “Watch yer aim, sonny. Boys pee on the wall…and real men pee on the ceiling.”

If not for being mad about missing the canape platter, Rennik would have laugued. Instead he cast a glance upwards to the two burly men standing inverted on the ceiling and trying to arc urine successfully into the urinals below. Amused as they were, they weren’t being very successful.

Glad it was a spacious restroom, Rennik only shrugged as he unzipped, “I’m not here to show off—just wanna drain the main vein and get back to the party.”

Now zipping up, his fellow patron perked up, “A party? Where’s that?”

“Last Thursday,” he answered, trying not to sound peeved at being interrupted, “3rd floor basement.”

“So up past the tennis courts?”

“No, you’re thinking of the 2nd floor attic. Totally different place.”

“Gads, I hate this place.”

“Nah, you love it. We all do.”

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