The men’s room is a horrifying place.
When women visit a public washroom they often go in groups and spend an inordinate amount of time in there chatting, applying makeup and doing whatever else it is that women do in the ladies room. When a man has to use the men’s room, it’s like a mission behind enemy lines. Go it alone. Don’t be spotted. Touch as little as possible. Get in and out quickly and stay alive.
File Photo: Alternate Men’s Room sign
Men’s rooms are gross. That’s because men are gross. I’m in no way one of those obsessive compulsive clean freaks but after the things I’ve seen, I can fully understand why someone would do everything in their power to avoid public bathrooms all together. You want to know? You really want to know? Ok, I’ll tell you. But you’ve been warned. Where do I begin? Let’s start with…
The urinal is about the only thing I’ll use in the men’s room. The stalls are just too scary (I’ll explain later.) There are essentially 2 types of urinals:
And the low.
Possibly the inspiration for Ah Ha’s, Hunting High & Low album.
Bonus: What’s that one guy doing with his ass?
The low type is the rarer of the two and by far the worst. Sure it makes it easier to aim so there’s less pee on the floor but unless you make sure to aim for that sweet spot somewhere in the middle, you’re going to get splash back on your feet or even worse on your pants. And the sweet spot on every one is different. I swear these things were designed by those carnys that run the ball in the peach basket
Step right up to the urinal! Don’t get piss on yourself and win a feathered roach clip or an Ah Ha decorative mirror!
Even with the high urinals you could still wind up with back splash as they tend to suddenly flush on their own when you’re in mid stream. Oh and sometimes they’re full of pubes!
I don’t know how this happens? Are there men out there that unzip and just start shedding like dogs? Or do they stand their finger combing their gorilla salad into the urinal while they whizz? I don’t even know why I’m asking these questions because frankly, I don’t want to know. And that’s another thing, this whole Willy Watcher bogeyman that everyone is afraid of. So many men think that someone is going to look at their junk when they’re taking a leak. You see them cupping their hand to hide it or forgoing the urinal all together and pissing in the stall. Some urinals even have little dividers.
These one’s feature smoked glass, allowing your penis to be well lit but still maintain its privacy.
I’m not sure if it’s feelings of male inadequacy (the money generated annually from products related to small wiener worry must run into the billions) or homophobia (you’d have to be a pretty hard up gay guy to resort to scoping wangs at the urinal) or both (I don’t even want to know about the inner turmoil of a homophobic man that’s worried some homo is going to think he has a small penis). But you know what? I don’t care. If someone is going to steal a glance at my junk while I pee, so be it. I won’t know because I won’t be looking at him. But try as you might, there are certain men in the men’s room that are pretty hard to unsee. Like the toddler pisser.
Now I’ve never seen the full on pants and underwear down variety of toddler pisser but I know someone that has. The worst I’ve seen is pants down with light blue Fruit of the Looms. It doesn’t sound as bad until I tell you I saw it about once a week at a place I used to work and the man looked a lot like Gene Shalit.
Worse than the toddler pisser though is the gunslinger. This is the guy that already has it out when he’s about 12 feet from the urinal. You zip up turn and BANG! I got hit with one of those a couple months ago and the guy was like 80.
I still get flash backs at the 7-11 counter.
But all that aside the urinals are still your safest bet. And it could be worse. In the UK a lot of places have those troughs.
I heard a story once about a boy lighting a paper boat on fire and sending it down one of these when everyone was lined up after a football match. Classic.
Or how about Bangkok?
Speaking of scary, cue the voodoo jungle drums because it’s time for
My advice to you is don’t. Just don’t. But sometimes when the lineup for the urinal is too long or you really have to go, a man’s gotta suck it up and be a man in the men’s room. And let me tell you, preparing to enter a men’s room stall is like a detective preparing to enter a murder scene. You hold your breath and pray it isn’t too bad.
File Photo: Too bad.
To those men that have no qualms about hankering down and dropping them off, see that handly thing up there to the left? That’s the flush. Use it. I don’t want to be greeted by that pile of bangers and mash you’ve so callously left to disintegrate in the bowl.
The men’s room daily lunch special.
But honestly that’s the least of your worries. There can be poo on the floor, poo on the seat, poo smeared on the walls. Anything goes in there. Men’s room stalls offer up that public anonymity that let disgusting people be disgusting. The men’s room stall is like a prototype for the modern internet comments section. This reminds me of the one lighter side of entering a stall, the bathroom graffiti. Sure you get your usual suspects. You know, so and so sucks dick, so and so is a slut, the odd racist comment and crude depictions of the female anatomy. But sometimes you come across some real gems. Here are a few of my favorites:
Show me that smile again! (surrounded by music notes)That last one always scared me as a kid because I was afraid of monsters in the toilet after seeing Ghoulies.
- In the stall of the now closed Tap bar in the Annex
Free cowboy hats.
- Below the seat cover dispenser, don’t remember where.
A detailed drawing depicting a man with 3 dicks and sperm with wavy lines coming out of them. The caption underneath read, Man of the future.
- Burlington Leon’s men’s room.
Welcome to a dumping experience.
- I want to say the El Mocambo but I’m not sure.
Here be Ghoulies.
- Stall in the Skillet Zellers restaurant, Applebly Mall Burlington circa mid 80s.
But you don’t have to enter the men’s room stall to live in fear of it, oh no. Much like the urinals there are a few special types of stall users that can bring the experience to you. Like the J. Edger Pooper. Legend has it that J. Edger Hoover the infamous head of the FBI used to like to hold meetings in the men’s room while he was taking a shit.
By the looks of him, those were looooong meetings.
Now with the never ending use of the cell phone, Poopers can pay homage to Hoover by conducting their own meetings while on the can. And if you’re in the men’s room you get to overhear every word of it. If you listen carefully you can hear the audible strain and lowering of tone in the voice as he dispatches a particularly vicious dead otter into the bowl. Or worse yet is the assassin. You think you're alone in the men’s room until you hear the faintest of shuffles or catch the reflection of feet in the men’s room mirror as you wash your hands.
The assassin doesn’t make a sound while anyone is in ear shot. But don’t linger by the door on your way out. For as soon as he feels he’s alone, he’ll let loose mercilessly. But worst of all is the Dumb and Dumper. He just doesn’t care. He’ll burst through the men’s room door and head for the stall at full hustle. (This is top speed for the D & D.) Your final warning might be an inarticulate below or a revolting declaration (Something along the lines of, I gotta shit large!) before he just unloads.
This type of man epitomizes the horror that is the men’s room experience.
And that’s it. I’m done. I’ve dwelled on this for far to long. Smell you later. Hopefully not in the men’s room.
P.S. An honorable mention goes to the drunk guy that pisses in the bathroom sink instead of waiting in line. You truly are a retched human being.