RECORD STORE TALES MkII: Getting More Tale
#355: “The man’s hot piss warmed my freezing cold hands”

Once upon a time, in a Record Store not far away, there was a manager named Joe. Some people call him “Big Nose”. Some people just call him Joe. Two things about Joe you must understand: 1) Joe doesn’t give a crap about what anybody thinks, and 2) Joe doesn’t really know boundaries. Joe is the one who told me he had a crush on my mom. Joe is the one who introduced me to the Open Door Piss. I like Joe, don’t get me wrong.  He was pretty much the only one at the Record Store that I could confide in towards the end.  He is trustworthy, 100%.  A solid individual.  He was the best support I could have had.  But I’d be lying to you if I didn’t tell you that Joe is different from just about everybody you know.

The Tale goes like this:

Joe and Uncle Meat were driving from Waterloo to Windsor, to go and visit Tom who was attending teacher’s college there.  It was December, and a cold one it was.  By this time, Tom sold his own branch of the Record Store, so he could continue his education and become a teacher.  Joe and Meat were travelling in Joe’s old beat up piece of shit.  It was the quintessential “old man car”.  It was huge, ancient, and nothing worked.  I’m amazed it made to Windsor and back, honestly.  One of the features that no longer functioned was the heat, which is a pretty darned important thing during a Canadian December.

Sometime during the three hour tour, Joe had to piss.  Pulling off highway 401 to pee isn’t Joe’s style.  Instead, he re-invented the piss jug, but with a large Tim Horton’s coffee cup.  After relieving himself in said cup, he passed it to Meat!

Meat, all this time, was freezing his ass off in the passenger side.  His hands and fingers in particular were as frigid as icicles.  Although being passed a cup of piss in most situations isn’t a position you want to be in, this time it wasn’t so bad.  The cup “felt like a hot double double in my hands,” says Meat.  Still warm with Joe’s body heat, the piss-cup helped Meat regain some of the sensation in his digits.  “What’s the greatest gift you can give?  The warmth from inside of you.  The man’s hot piss warmed my freezing cold hands,” according to Uncle Meat.

After warming his fingers, Meat rolled down the window.  He carefully prepared the cup for ejection.  He managed to throw it while only getting a surprisingly “minimal amount of piss” on his arm.

Neither Uncle Meat nor I condone littering, but sometimes life hands you a warm cup of piss, and you have no choice in the matter!