I received a couple of requests for more tales from the toilet. So here you go with a blast from the past called Urine For a Story. Originally posted here.
Sorry for the bad pun, but within the last 30 days or so I have read three different entries about bathroom habits and decided to list my own commentary.
For those of you who like to play along allow me to begin by citing the entries that led to the flow of consciousness that resulted in this piece.
On the 23rd anniversary of my Bar Mitzvah Monsieur Bogner recited a tale of woe regarding the lack of bathroom etiquette at his office.
At the time I must have placed my brain on autopilot because if I had thought about it I could have provided him with some useful tools to assist him in solving this problem. You see back in April B2 at Toner Mishap did a fine job of illustrating the art of urinal selection. And when I say a fine job allow me to share some of the graphics he developed to go alongside his work.
As I mentioned, at the time I was reading the Treppenwitz post I should have mentioned the Toner Mishap post, but it slipped my mind.
A short time later the next post in this series appeared in which we learned of the challenges presented when technology fails to serve it’s purpose. And that leads me to the next section of this rambling, ambling tale of secretions and excretions.
At some point last year I wrote about a gentleman I know and his bathroom habits. I am not sure what he eats, but I suspect that he may be a cannibal or someone who consumes rotting flesh because the only way that you can enter the men’s room after he has been in there is in a hazmat suit. There is nuclear waste coming out of him that causes you to choke and gag.
A short time ago I was forced to respond to nature’s call in spite of the stench that permeated the stalls. As I exited my own and prepared to wash my hands a man began to enter and immediately began coughing. Prior to his quick departure he shot a look of disgust at me and I knew that he now considers me the cause of the olfactory offensive. It has since been confirmed because when he sees me approach the bathroom he makes an effort not to go in. Oh the shame to be seen in his eyes as if I am Pumba.
But returning to the topic of urine and urinals allow me to share a couple more observations and comments. I find it odd when:
- men put their beer/coke/lunch on the corner of the urinal. I find it more odd to see them keep drinking while they are engaged in their business. It is as if they are concerned with replacing the fluid that they lose as fast as they lose it.
- I hate standing next to a guy whose hands are behind his head or anywhere in my line of sight. I am looking straight ahead, if your waving catches my eye there is a problem.
- I don’t like men who lean their heads against the bathroom wall while they are engaged in such business.
- And I especially dislike being misted by the guy next to me. Yes, I admit to having had that happen. The force is so great that it sprays off of his urinal and onto me. This is one reason why I like to have space between myself and the guy next to me.
I think that this should do it for now, but you never know when tales of the potty may return.