Earlier today, in the Snow Park lodge at Park City, Utah's Deer Valley ski resort, I peed in the urinal next to Emmy-winning TV sports personality
Cris Collinsworth. No kidding, people — I thought I recognized him buckling his boots, and when he announced to his party, in signature Southern twang, that he was off to the privy, I was 100%. It was
Cris Collinsworth, and no one can tell me otherwise.
Now, you figure a guy like Cris Collinsworth probably gets around. He'll pee in maybe ten or twelve public restrooms in a given week. Extrapolating that over his 44 years, a generous estimate is that he's landed in front of 26400 urinals in his time on Earth. Of course, Cris wasn't always the long ball-catching, Bradshaw-taunting urinal hopper he is today. Take out his early years in rural Florida, where he probably peed outside most of the time, and 16000 seems to me to be an unimpeachable Collinsworth urinal appraisal.
Assuming that Collinsworth drew a crowd every time he peed in a public restroom, a maximum of 32000 people would have peed beside him since his early 1960s potty-training. But you have to believe that now and again Collinsworth, given the choice, will favor the urinal on the far left or right — and on occasion he might even seek the solitude of a stall — so that moment-seekers like me cannot gather on either side of him. Let's not forget either that sometimes a restroom harbors only one urinal: in these solo-shooters no one at all can pee next to him. Finally, it's a stretch to assume that restrooms are packed to capacity every time Collinsworth pees. The simple fact is that, in his lifetime, probably only 14000 people have peed next to Cris Collinsworth.
And I am pleased to say now that one of these urinal-neighbors of record is your ever-loyal correspondent,
Phutatorius.
