Off a mountaintop during a YMCA trek. Stood with my toes over the edge of a sheer face, took a good long leak, shook off, zipped up, and the first drops hadn’t even hit the bottom yet.
Also, I took a motorcycle training course out at the airport on an unused runway. Next to us was the police pursuit driving training range. Most days the cars were there but not the officers, so I pissed on the patrol cars. It seemed funny at the time…
Pervert.
I’ve peed in a lot of places around the world. But peeing in the Sea of Gallilee last year seemed deliciously irreverent.
I caught a guy peeing in my dumpster tonight at work. I yelled at him when he got to the window. Then in line for the Burger King drive thru, we laughed as about 5 different guys went to pee in the woods. Hasn’t anyone ever leard of holding it in?
In a cave. It echoed!
I got into archaeology and spelunking (caving). Both jobs far from toilets.
Why hold it in if you can go anywhere, like a Hoover Dust Devil?
I took a leak into the pool at a Holiday Inn once. From a fourth floor balcony. Very drunk, natch.
On the jungle gym in Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village NY during a presentation of Shakespeare in the Park.
I zipped up seconds before a few of the actors rushed by and couldn’t control my laughter when one of them dragged his lengthy costume through the puddle that had formed.
In horse stall…no horse was in it at the time.
Staying at the Lani Kai (sp?) hotel in Ft. Myers, FLA when I was 19. The only member of our group who was of drinking age headed to the bottom of our hotel to get an entrance stamp to the cabana bar. He returned and I made a beautiful copy of the red stamp on my hand. We both headed down and walked to the front of the line where a doorman and cop were standing. My buddy flashed his right hand and walked in. I flashed my left hand and…was collared. “Nice try, bub.”, said the doorman. Apparently they only stamp right hands. Soooo, we both left and went to the back entrance off the beach. While my buddy distracted the doorman, I managed to sneak in.
The place was packed! A local reggae band was playing and everyone was drunk and swaying to the beat. We got our drinks and forced our way onto the dancefloor. After about an hour, I felt a piss coming on strong. I searched and searched for the potty before realizing it was…outside the bar. There was no way I’d ever be able to sneak in again!
Before my buddy could speak, I was unzipped and pissing in the middle of the dance floor. He was yelling at me in greek (“I can feel it splashing my legs!”) as I continued. I then caught the gaze of a guy standing about 2 feet across from me. His eyes started at the ground by his feet…slowly raised and paused at my groin…then continued upward till we made eye contact. As he approached, I was quickly finishing up my business. “You just pissed on my leg!”, he said. “No I didn’t.”, I replied. Then my buddy interrupted and offered to buy the guy a drink. That was that. whew
p.s. If you’re that guy and reading this thread…sorry! 
Portrait of myself as a younger man of 24 or so. Mrs Chance and I aren’t yet married but have an apartment together. One of our pals, a young woman, was living in our extra bedroom for a few months. She had a little white VW Bug.
The Bug gets towed. It’s a Sunday night. We end up about 35 miles from our apartment at around 11PM at night. And I’m irritated. Irritated at our pal, at our apartment complex (they’re the ones who towed her), irritated at the world.
So I’m dealing with the night guy at the towing yard. He’s being a complete dick about freeing her car. Should be a straightforward process. Give him money (MINE! Since our pal didn’t have any), unlock car, drive car away. Probably happens a hundred times a day at this place.
But not with Commander Sparkplug here. Oh no…can’t be done! So we have to browbeat him and get him to call his boss at home to OK it. We get the go ahead and he goes to get the car.
Meanwhile, I’m irritated and I have to pee. I step outside…think to myself…and unzip on the door and the doorknob leading to the office in which this guy works.
He comes back, I hand him the dough, and drive off. My last shot of the scene? Him heading back to his office and reaching for the knob…
Petty, I know. Forgive me.
Whoda thunk I’d post about this twice in a week?
Coupla years ago I was at the Indy 500. We’d all been drinking a lot and I trundled off to the ladies room. The line to get in was beyond belief. BEYOND BELIEF I TELL YOU! I was not desperate, but annoyed at how much of the race I was sure to miss while waiting. In front of me was a girl in worse shape, hopping around, etc. Her boyfriend was waiting with her (Aw, ain’t that sweet). After about 10 minutes I proposed that the three of us go into the men’s room. We’d take turns protecting the stall door for each other, and with the boyfriend there no one would mess with us. She was definitely the delicate flower type and blanched at the idea, but she was bursting. Her boyfriend coaxed her just a little bit more before she relented.
Okay, the men’s bathroom had a huge long line for the urinal “trough” (that line was moving quickly however), and a shorter line for the stalls. We got into the shorter line. We had to pass what seemed like 10,000 guys with their dicks in hand. We got about 98% high-fives and shouts of encouragement for being so ballsy. The rest flicked beer at us, screamed, hurled curses, etc. It was pretty exhilarating, actually. There were several stalls with no doors–not very popular with the guys who needed to take a dump, but they were fine for us with our body-blocking plan. We took turns peeing while the other two turned their backs and blocked the view. I remember hearing someone shout “Wipe that f***ing mouse and get the hell out of there!” from the line behind us when I finally got to a stall. I still laugh, what a great line.
The girl was so GRATEFUL as we made our way out of there at a dead run laughing like maniacs. Problem solved. I seriously think we would’ve waited 45 minutes if we’d stayed in the women’s bathroom line.