I am a series of contradictions. I’m private by nature, but also a little social butterfly. Outgoing, but guarded. I like good conversation, but have no patience for small talk. I’d never describe myself as chatty, especially in certain places.
Like elevators. Or restrooms.
For some reason, the design of most men’s rooms is far too neighborly for me. At least a lot of them have the good sense to put up a divider between urinals. But even that doesn’t stop these lamebrains with full bladders and empty heads from wanting to strike up a conversation while emptying the tank.
Here’s my question: how starved for conversation are you that you feel the need to talk to a complete stranger while they’re peeing?
It usually starts with a head nod, and the usual, “Hey.” Who the hell knows where it goes from there: sports scores, cars, women. Happy to talk about them all.
Just. Not. Here.
It’s like going to clubs and seeing guys in the men’s room on their cell phones. Is that the best place to make the call? Not that urinals and toilets flushing don't make a lovely backdrop to the conversation.
Fortunately, side-by-side isn’t the only option where I’m currently working. There’s one urinal off by itself, a stall wall on one side, and a tile wall on the other. Conversation proof and private. Or as private as it can be in a public restroom. This is the one I use. If it’s busy, I’ll leave and go to another men’s room on another floor in the building. They’re all the same.
I know what you're thinking: if I want privacy, why not just use a stall? Because if I use a stall I have to close the door and lock it. I'm a bit of a germophobe. I don't want to touch more things than I have to, if you get my drift.
So a little advice when nature calls. Go, do your business, and leave. Don’t strike up a conversation, with me or anybody else.
Because you know what's almost more unbearable than being involved in a bathroom conversation? Listening to one.
