Ok, so I was joking about getting drunk and engaging in unwholesome proclivities for drugs with bums....
but...
after that 7-Up, I really needed to use the restroom. So I sauntered over to the portable toilets. But guys, it was dark. And there were no lights. Which meant that the DMA would have been forcing me to lift up my skirt and sit over a hole in a dirty port-a-potty in the pitch black. I tried, really I did, but when i shut the door I could see nothing, and even though it's not *technically* a drain, more like a huge receptacle beneath the seat, I started having flashbacks to "It" (the book, which I read in the 4th grade, thanks parents, not the movie). I couldn't do it. I'll wait to get home.
So, we walk back to the train and I suddenly realize there is no way I can make it home. And of course because downtown is filled with bums none of the businesses have public restrooms. I scanned frantically, and saw a big landscaped area of trees and bushy grass. Walking around for further inspection I saw two small but deep fountains behind it that had been drained. After walking back to the platform, I could see that none of this propitious situation was visible to the street.
Now don't judge me for this next part. I'm pretty sure you know where this story is going anyway, but in the interest of being coy I'll couch the following in hypotheticals. But it's all true.
I may or may not have then enlisted Jennifer to be my lookout. I possibly then crawled into said drained fountain. At that point I may or may not have given one last furtive glance for onlookers before nonchalantly squatting down and peeing while pretending to be having a totally casual conversation that I just happened to want to have while crouching in a dark and empty fountain. Jennifer may have then offered a sheet of the Dallas Observer to assist me at the end, but I refused. This could have been on the grounds that I didn't want to litter, but I also didn't want to carry a crumpled up piece of newsprint covered in my urine to the trash. It was a classic ethical dilemma- the former would have filled me with guilt, the latter was just gross. So I sacrificed. I did a little shake, adjusted my clothes, and hopped out of the fountain like nothing had happened.
So, to the question. If a security camera catches me urinating in a public fountain downtown, can I be charged with something?
but...
after that 7-Up, I really needed to use the restroom. So I sauntered over to the portable toilets. But guys, it was dark. And there were no lights. Which meant that the DMA would have been forcing me to lift up my skirt and sit over a hole in a dirty port-a-potty in the pitch black. I tried, really I did, but when i shut the door I could see nothing, and even though it's not *technically* a drain, more like a huge receptacle beneath the seat, I started having flashbacks to "It" (the book, which I read in the 4th grade, thanks parents, not the movie). I couldn't do it. I'll wait to get home.
So, we walk back to the train and I suddenly realize there is no way I can make it home. And of course because downtown is filled with bums none of the businesses have public restrooms. I scanned frantically, and saw a big landscaped area of trees and bushy grass. Walking around for further inspection I saw two small but deep fountains behind it that had been drained. After walking back to the platform, I could see that none of this propitious situation was visible to the street.
Now don't judge me for this next part. I'm pretty sure you know where this story is going anyway, but in the interest of being coy I'll couch the following in hypotheticals. But it's all true.
I may or may not have then enlisted Jennifer to be my lookout. I possibly then crawled into said drained fountain. At that point I may or may not have given one last furtive glance for onlookers before nonchalantly squatting down and peeing while pretending to be having a totally casual conversation that I just happened to want to have while crouching in a dark and empty fountain. Jennifer may have then offered a sheet of the Dallas Observer to assist me at the end, but I refused. This could have been on the grounds that I didn't want to litter, but I also didn't want to carry a crumpled up piece of newsprint covered in my urine to the trash. It was a classic ethical dilemma- the former would have filled me with guilt, the latter was just gross. So I sacrificed. I did a little shake, adjusted my clothes, and hopped out of the fountain like nothing had happened.
So, to the question. If a security camera catches me urinating in a public fountain downtown, can I be charged with something?
I think you can get a ticket for public urination/public indecency, I seriously doubt anything will happen. Unless you are a well-known criminal, and when someone sees that tape and says, "Hey look! It's Cortney! The Fountain-Bandit!" I am sure it will be fine, haha. Sounds like quite the adventure though.
ReplyDeleteI think my criminal pseudonym must now be Cortney the Fountain Bandit. It kind of reminds me of Home Alone, when the one robber wants to leave the faucets on as their calling card, so they can be known as the Wet Bandits or something similarly ridiculous :)
ReplyDelete