by James Gallichio
Every man wants to be known for something.
“Oh, that’s Jerry.”
“You know, the guy who saved those kids from that burning building?”
“Oh, that’s Fire Jerry? What a dreamboat…” <swoons>
I too have fallen victim to this innate need for fame. I wanted my name to carry on a legacy after I’ve long-since changed it to something more easily pronounceable. I wanted something cool, something daring, something exciting to be associated with James Gallichio. James Danger Gallichio.
Let’s take a little time-out, and talk about urinals.
Many of our female readers may not be aware, but peeing in public can be tricky. You’re out at dinner, having a great time and a couple of glasses of wine – and then, suddenly, you feel an animalistic urge to mark your territory. You excuse yourself and make your way toward the warm, welcoming bathroom. Only to find…
You reluctantly sidle up to one of the urinals – on the far right, of course, to give as much distance between you and the next guy that walks in. And then, just as you unzip your fly, readying yourself for sweet, sweet relief, in walks…
…John Wayne Gacy. He takes a moment to survey the bathroom, then chooses a urinal. A urinal which is, of course, located right next to yours. He’s standing there, silently judging you, exposed in all of your glory. Suddenly you freeze up. You need to relieve yourself, but you just…can’t.
Your sense of dignity lost, you slink away with stooped shoulders to a cubicle.
Several months ago, I was chatting with some friends about this all-too-common phenomenon. (The part about being unable to urinate with other guys around you, that is, not the part about John Wayne Gacy coming into a public bathroom and staring at you. That only happened once.)
“My friends,” I said, in a King Solomon-esque pose, “I am about to tell you a public urination method that will no doubt change the way you use public toilets.”
They huddled in, eager to hear my wisdom.
“There’s a trick I use that never fails. Here’s what you do: As you’re walking up to the urinal, on your approach, that’s when you start trying to go. You relax, everything kinda releases and by the time you open your fly you’re ready to go. The trick is, don’t open your fly until you’re actually ready to go.”
At first they didn’t believe me, but after a quicker-than-usual trip to the bathroom, one of my friends came out with a mixture of elation and surprise on his face.
“It….worked! I did The Gallichio, and it worked!!”
Another friend, also privy to my method, approached me in a similar fashion after going to the bathroom: “Dude, The Gallichio works! That’s fantastic!”
Eventually, it evolved…
“Hey man, I’m gonna go take a quick Gallichio before the movie starts. Can you hold my popcorn for me?”
It’s nice to be known for something. To have something synonymous with your name.