Before I start this post, I feel like I need to clear up a few things with the three of you that still read this blog. Not only am I a horrible blogger, but I am also a horrible liar. I said I was going to update more, and that has become a platitude of epic fail. It's also the antithesis of what my goal is here: to get my work exposed and build up my writing cred enough to actually get leads on freelancing. That would be a hell of a lot easier if I actually updated more than twice a month, and I clearly need to re-focus my energy on both writing awesome (if random) bullshit and getting people to give enough shits to keep coming back for more. Only way to do that is to post more and better articles, and that is my intent from here on out. Scout's honor.
Ok, back to bullshitting. This is something men will appreciate more than women, but it's still pertinent to anyone reading this as it deals with a subject that we all encounter on a daily basis: public bathroom etiquette. As a precursor, let me explain something that we dudes call the "One Three Five Rule" (I'm not sure if this has been inducted into the sacred halls of Man Law yet, but it should be). [EDIT: It is!!] Quite simply, you put at least one urinal of space between you and your fellow potty breaker when availability of urinals allow for it.
To do otherwise is an invasion into the privacy of one of man's most private acts: pissing.
Now I know what you're thinking: "What's the big deal? And don't act like you didn't publicly pee on than cop car last weekend you schmuck." Like I said above, you need privacy "when availability [will] allow for it". Going home after a night of hard living, based on the fact that you left the house in the first place, naturally trumps the preferance of privacy normally afforded to Seabiscuit impersonations. Besides, it's not like my friends stood around and watched me relieve myself against squad car 1-Tango-13 (the police sure did, though).
But I digress. The point of this semi-rant is to share my personal encounter with an egregious violation of the Man Law concerning personal peespace. It all started this afternoon when I was getting ready to leave work. As most people do before they leave the building for their commute home or wherever, I went to the bathroom one last time so that on the train ride home I wouldn't end up wishing I did. I leave my office relatively late, so I usually get the bathroom all to myself; in spite of this, I always use the urinal at the end in case someone comes in and I don't end up hogging the stalls in a way that will conflict with the 1-3-5 Rule (there are 4 urinals in the row).
As I start putting out the imaginary fire at the bottom of the urinal, this dude that works on the other side of the floor rolls in (I'd name names, but I don't even know it, that's how little I see him). Normally I just mind my business and don't really notice whoever else wanders through the bathroom, but I couldn't help but notice his presence, since he preceded to use the urinal right next to me. To reiterate, my floor is empty at this time of day, which means the bathroom is even emptier; there were several other free stalls, but no, he had to pick the one right next to me.
Un. Fucking. Believable.
Then, he decides he wants to strike up a conversation. While talking to another dude while peeing is just fine and dandy, I'm less receptive to dialogue when you are standing right in my fucking face. Unnecessarily. While peeing. Sorry if I wasn't in the mood for random bathroom small talk bullshit, but you broke the sacred trust of Man Law! Those laws are there for your safety, brah, as well as the good of all huMANity.
I just gritted my teeth and tried to give hime the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he thought I was about to finish, or maybe his 2009 edition of Man Law didn't reach his inbox yet (Man Law goes by car model years, FYI). Either way, it was a jarring experience. Luckily for me, I was about to finish, so I zipped up, flushed, and peaced out for the sink.
I wish this was the end, but it just keeps going. No sooner do I stick my hands under the faucet, do I look up at the mirror to see the same dude using the sink next to mine!! WTF mate?! There's more fucking sinks than stalls; use one that isn't effing adjacent to me!! I'm about to get on a fucking rush hour train to Flatbush; I would like to experience at least a modicum of privacy before I sardine my way into a 5 train, sheesh!! Apparently, that is too much to ask for these days.
I wouldn't have even minded the close proximity of the sink space if I hadn't just survived one of the most glaring acts of contempt for Man Law. I was willing to let it go before the sink experience; now I believe that his ignorance was no excuse for breaking the law.
I share this with you not only to get that off my chest (admittedly, I was a bit wound up at work today), but also so that my life can serve as a cautionary tale. For the sake of all that is good and manly, I advise against breaking Man Law, especially in public. You never know what distress you may be causing your fellow man.
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