It's just as much myinal as it is urinal

Ladies in the house, say yeah. And then realize that it’s going to be difficult for you to relate to the rest of this blog post. To our male readers, this piece is in regards to a place we hold, and mark, as private--the public restroom.

To those unaware, there is a set of unspoken rules that hold true in the men’s room. Here are a few: 1) If all the urinals are available, pick the one furthest from the door. 2) If there are people using some urinals, try to make it a rule of thumb to have at least a urinal's-worth of separation between yourself and someone else. 3) If every other urinal is in use, and you’re not in any rush to get anywhere, wait for one to free up.

Now, I don’t remember being taught any of these rules by my father, elder brother, or any friends, and I don’t think many of you have ever been formally educated on the matter either – it’s just something we know. These rules may seem superficially homophobic, but I assure you, that is not the driving force.

The ideas of privacy and comfort reign supreme for American men. As a man, I would like to pee as privately as possible in a movie theater without having to become a “stall guy,” which is another issue unto itself. Rituals such as timing the duration and properly aiming the projectile become jeopardized when another person is right next to you hindering your confidence.

Anyway I say all this because I’ve discovered something. Middle-aged white men, mostly those 50 and above, have this feeling that they can only use a urinal if they’re standing two feet away from it.

I mean what the hell.

There’s no feeling of seclusion here at all anymore, it’s an open calling card for creepiness. They’re no different than the guy who looks over your shoulder when you’re typing an e-mail, other than that they have their cock out simultaneously. Think about that – e-mail guy having his dick out.

So I beg you, middle-aged white man, Especially at Union Station, take those two steps closer to the white porcelain receptacle, not just so you can feel more comfortable, but literally for the good of your fellow man.

Once this issue is resolved we can tackle the equally heinous crime of the dudes who spit in the urinal when they’re done. What the fuck, guy.

Take it easy homeblows,

Tapan

p.s. Good luck to ye mighty b-hawks and b-ulls