Let's just keep this between ourselves, please

     "All are men, (Italian tourists arrested annually in New York City for public urination) not only young ones, but the more mature as well, who behave in New York as if it were any typical Italian city --they go off in a corner and take care of their needs."  You can read the full article at Don't Smoke (Or Urinate) in Public...An Italian Lawyer's Tips for Visitors to the U.S. at worldcrunch.com
     I quoted that to set the stage.

I could have caused an international incident

     Last fall we were in Italy.  We had a great time.  To be extra cautious in the telling of this tale, I will be as ambiguous as possible.
     John, Kathy and I were driving to a walled city of some renown in Italy.  It was a long drive.  I start every morning with a huge helping of hot tea and am good for about an hour before nature enters the scene.
     We were in the targeted town and looking for the 300 car parking lot mentioned in every guide book about this highly preserved world heritage site.  I felt nature calling.  I knew we were minutes from the parking lot.  But the traffic was bumper to bumper.  And barely moving. There was a traffic light every 50 feet.  They were all red.
     I was getting antsy.  The traffic crawled.  The parking lot did not appear.  There was no relief in sight.
    I could not sit.  Sweat started beading down my forehead.  I started to drive while standing up, no easy task.  Tears were streaming down my face.  I was sweating.  (Which is another form of bodily waste, to be blunt.)  Besides us loomed the huge, solid wall of the town.  Suddenly....an opening in the wall...a gate!  I parked (well, actually stopped) and jumped out, hoping to find a tree just around the corner, or a cafe, or a bathroom.
     I raced through the opening....nothing but walls.  No people, no cars, no camera.
     So I urinated in a corner in the alley.
     Mind you, I was not proud.  But I was relieved.
     As I hurried back to the car I saw three men.  I asked where the parking area was, and they said it was closed today, but there was a lot just up the street and to the right.  (In hindsight, I would think one of the guidebooks would mention it closes every Tuesday for the market....that is kind of important.)
     That lot had toilets.  But I didn't have to go then.
     After that, for the next 10 days I assumed the tradition of Italian men.  While the group thought I was in the vineyard taking photos, I was peeing.
     Under the stairway to the outdoor parking lot?  Marked my territory.
     Walking through the grapevines to get a look at the view?  You guessed it.....relief au natural!
     Now I am not particularly proud of any of this.  (Ok, the fact no one knew I was peeing when taking pictures was a pretty cool ruse.  And it was tricky,,,so maybe I am a little proud of that one.)
     But it is comforting to read that that can be typical behavior in Italian towns.  And it was pretty convenient.
     I did choose to ignore the other articles that cited fines, jail, and possible social ostracism for urinating in public.
     And I live in fear that there was a camera, and somewhere there is a wanted poster with my face on it.
     So when you see me next, I may be wearing a wig and have a false moustache.
     Then again, I may be the guy peeing on the tree next to the tollway.