I recently had the opportunity to attend a Minnesota Vikings game at the Metrodome. Such a lovely venue for sporting events (obviously sarcasm, since the Metrodome is the worst stadium in the country). The Metrodome is a testament to the era in which it was built. The architecturally atrocious 70’s. A decade sandwiched between the shitty sixties and the eyesore eighties.

That’s right, three straight decades of ugly buildings, and the Metrodome may very well be the centerpiece. The building is made out of more concrete than a city block in East Compton. Sitting in the seats is slightly less roomy and comfortable than being sandwiched between John Madden and Jared from Subway (fat Jared, before he went on the subway diet) on a chair made out of concrete; it’s not a very comfortable experience.

Of course, after hearing my story from the game, saying that the Metrodome is not very comfortable may qualify as an “understatement”. Yes, I’m going to tell you a story of my experience at the trough.

One thing I neglected to mention in my depiction of the Metrodome facility is the quality of the “facilities” themselves. Yes, I gave no mention of the bathrooms, if you want to call them that. You see, rather than being able to tinkle individually in urinals, men must urinate in a massive trough, spanning the entire bathroom wall.

Logistically, troughs make a LOT of sense. I can just hear the planners brainstorming “rather than having 15 urinals in a bathroom, let’s put in one giant trough. We could easily fit 16 or 17 people in the same space!” In other words, let’s cram as many men as we can into a very limited and uncomfortable amount of space.

The whole trough concept seems a little strange in this day and age. Then again, I remember peeing in a trough as a kid and having no issues with the concept. I’m not sure what happened, but I had a little trouble making water this time around. The reason: stage fright.

Stage fright is a term assigned by many men to indicate functional problems with their manly apparatus. Basically, it’s an all encompassing term we use any time the unit doesn’t work as intended. This applies to both sexual and non-sexual situations.

My case was about as non-sexual as you can get. Sunday afternoon, 1 o’clock in the PM. Just downed a pint of Summit Grand and a Dome Dog. Feeling a little buzzed, and the urge to drain the lizard. I walk up 30 plus rows and head to the bathroom.

There’s a three deep line at the trough, so I have time to mentally prepare. “You can do it” I say to myself, as I wait my turn in line. I had to go so bad that stage fright shouldn’t have been a factor. The guy in front of me zips up, and it’s now my time to shine.

Unbelt, unzip, stare straight ahead.

Wait a few seconds.

Nothing.

Push harder.

Nothing.

Try waiting a little longer.

Nothing!

Mind racing, embarrassment sets in “What if the guy next to me notices? How long before it comes out? Why am I such a loser?”. I don’t even bother trying to find out. Zip, belt, turn around, wash the hands, and I’m out of there faster than sex addict at an “abstinence is awesome” party.

Embarrassed, drained (unfortunately only mentally) and out of my element, I quickly must come up with a backup plan. I decide to try going to the men’s room in another section. I make my way down the hallway, past the stadium entrance, and over to another men’s room. The line is OUT THE DOOR. I am running out of options. I could wait in this line for 15 minutes, and run the risk of another stage fright incident, only on a much more high pressure situation, or I could hold it for the rest of the game (still 2 hours left at that point).

I chose flight over fight. Yes, I walked away from that massive trough line and headed back toward my seat. I decided that I’d rather have to hold it and run the risk of getting “uromysitisis” than embarrass myself at the trough again. I did not to get back on the horse.

Well, that’s only somewhat true. In walking back to my seat, I was suddenly overcome with courage. I decided to try the trough one more time.

I walked in, whipped it out, and showed that trough who’s boss.