Memorable moments: The urinal overture

A couple of years ago, I went to watch a Nirvana cover band with a group of my hiking friends. Among us was Srini, a wonderful chap originally from India. Srini is a brilliant man, but as English is not his first language, his phrasing can occasionally take a detour into the unintentionally hilarious.

The band was incredible—pure, high-octane energy. The lead singer was giving it his all, thrashing around the stage until the sweat was literally dripping off him. When the band took a well-earned ten-minute break, the venue was buzzing.

Srini headed off to the loo and found himself standing at the urinal right next to the lead singer. The performer was still panting, drenched in the after-effects of a frantic set. Srini, being the friendly soul he is, wanted to acknowledge the man’s Herculean effort. He intended to say something sympathetic like, "Wow, you must be thirsty!"

Instead, he turned to the singer and asked in a polite, conversational tone:

"Hi, are you feeling thirsty?"

In the dimly lit, sweat-soaked atmosphere of a pub bathroom, the phrasing landed with a very different resonance than Srini intended. The lead singer froze, clearly convinced he was being hit on in the middle of a private moment.

He didn't stick around to discuss his hydration levels. He made a bewildered, hasty retreat, leaving Srini standing there, entirely unaware that he had just accidentally auditioned for the role of the band’s most forward groupie.

Memorable moments: The corporate presentation

Ally—who was my partner of 17 years, had many talents. Timing, as it turns out, is one of them. She discovered it very early in life. 

Her parents had been locked in a grueling, weeks-long battle with her potty training. It was a saga of frustration, failed attempts, and a growing sense of desperation. Ally, sensing the tension, seemed determined to hold out until the stakes were as high as possible.

The opportunity finally arrived when her father hosted a prestigious dinner party for his business colleagues. The house was filled with the clinking of crystal, the smell of a fine roast, and the hushed tones of serious men discussing serious business. Ally had been tucked away in bed, or so they thought.

In the middle of a particularly refined conversation between her father and his boss, the lounge doors swung open.

There stood Ally, clad in her pajamas and radiating a sense of immense professional achievement. In her hands, she held her potty—which was currently occupied by a very successful "delivery."

She marched straight up to her father, hoisted the prize aloft for the boss to inspect, and announced with pure, unadulterated pride:

"Look, Daddy! I made a woofy in my potty!"

After many weeks of resistance, you have to admire the commitment. Ally didn’t just get potty trained. She made sure there was an audience to witness the milestone.