Look, maybe this is my fault for parking myself at the urinal closest to the door in this ginormous, empty airport bathroom. But how the hell was I supposed to know that, as I was midway through the process of unzipping my pants, you would barge in, whip out your junk, and start relieving yourself RIGHT NEXT TO ME? Seriously, there are at least ten other urinals and about five stalls in this bathroom. I would look around to count, but I don’t want to accidentally look at your private parts and seem like a creep.
To really demonstrate the insanity of your decision, let me point out that this bathroom doesn’t even have dividers between the urinals. The urinals in here are spaced mere inches apart, such that the two of us are standing hip-to-hip with our members on full display right now. My privacy is completely nonexistent. With one twitch of the eye, you and I could become privy to the exact specifications of the other’s genitalia. One wrong move of your crotchal region could spell disaster for my white shirt.
It is now that I must seriously consider the prospect that you are a pervert. Are you? It is certainly possible. But from the way your eyes remain glued straight ahead as you whistle the tune of “Viva la Vida” by Coldplay while urinating, it doesn’t seem like you have any interest in looking at my penis at all. So I guess this is just a convenience thing for you? You are using the second-closest urinal to the door, I suppose. But is having this deeply uncomfortable and intimate experience with a stranger really worth the 5 seconds you save walking to the sink? I’m baffled to say the least.
All I can conclude is that you must be oblivious to the unspoken, near-universally-upheld laws of male bathroom etiquette. Everyone knows that in a line of urinals, one must always leave at least one toilet between himself and his fellow man. If all the other urinals are taken, of course, that’s a different story, BUT I AM LITERALLY THE ONLY OTHER FUCKING PERSON IN THIS BATHROOM, SO WHY DO YOU INSIST ON DOING THIS TO ME? HOW DARE YOU DEFY THE HOLY TENETS OF BASIC URINAL ETIQUETTE? You, sir, are nothing short of a monster.
If you think I’m overreacting, consider this: I have debilitating pee anxiety, which has made this whole experience infinitely worse. Normally, I have enough trouble taking a leak at a friend’s house when I think someone can hear me in the other room. In public bathrooms, it’s tough for me to pee without closing my eyes and going to my happy place, which is just an empty bathroom. In these situations, I usually prefer to pee in a stall so I can at least have a little privacy. I feel like this is a normal thing, no? Am I just weird?
This time, since there was nobody else in the bathroom, I figured I could actually use a urinal for once. I figured wrong. Just my luck, you managed to show up at the exact moment when I was about to start pissing. So now I’m stuck standing here with my member out while not even being able to squeeze a drop of urine out of my body. The only sound to be heard is the sssss of your piss hitting the porcelain of the urinal, not the SSSSSsssssSSS of twin streams of piss, meaning the fact that I’m not peeing is blatantly obvious from an auditory perspective. You’re probably thinking, “What is this guy doing? Why is he just standing there?” And now I look like the weird one even though YOU LITERALLY STARTED THIS WHOLE THING WITH YOUR BLATANT DISREGARD FOR HUMAN DECENCY.
Seriously man, I don’t appreciate— OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ACTUALLY NOT NOTICING THAT WHEN YOU JUST FLUSHED A BUNCH OF THE PISS-INFUSED WATER GOT ALL OVER MY CLOTHES AND SHOES?