How the author won a battle against full-bladdered men.  “Stop!
Stop!” I scream in the sternest tone I can muster, as I reverse
my car from our gate, trying hard to not cause a dent on the big
van parked right in the way. Trying to stop someone from
answering nature’s call on an empty, inviting wall is certainly
no mean task.  We live on a main thoroughfare with tea shops,
grocery stores, pharmacies, fast food joints, roadside eateries,
randomly parked call taxis, fruit vendors, a milk booth and
every other small enterprise one can think of — all doing brisk
business. Therefore, there is immense potential for wall-wetting
and road-stinking. I am not sure what purpose the electric meter
box or whatever it is on the pavement outside our home serves,
but it sure is convenient for a man with a full bladder to hide
behind relieve himself.  When caught in the act, one would
imagine any self-respecting human to cringe in shame. Well, most
of them don’t. Some are startled and flee for their lives, half-
way through th