Men and women are different. And I am not referring to gender equality, #WomenOn20s, or even the fact men still make more money than women for the same job. There is no real political or socioeconomic agenda here. It just comes down to basic biological differences. Other than the epiphany we all learned from cute, little Joseph in Kindergarten Cop, that is.
I am not going to discuss general anatomy, the birds and the bees, or even proper ways to manscape/groom yourself. But speaking of things we do with our different genitalia, going to the bathroom is one of them. I worked in retail for about ten years so I know how disgusting restrooms can be. The women’s restroom was always gross with sprayed walls, poop-salmon patties on the back of the toilet, or even bloodstained handles and drippings on the ground. Ew. Bye. While the men’s restrooms MAY not get as vile and putrid as a woman’s, there are still plenty of reasons why I detest them. When the Bee Gee’s wrote and sang “Tragedy,” they didn’t know just how true it was for men’s restrooms…
1. Urine Sap
There’s really no way to describe the feeling of walking around the men’s restroom without using one word: sticky. It baffles me because my bathroom at home doesn’t have sticky floors. All over the floor in public restrooms you see 50 Shades of Urine in different sizes and thickness or goopiness. It’s like sap from a pine tree, only not. And it just smells like stale, puke-coated mildew that’s oozed out of a zombie’s rotting, moist asshole.
Where do I even begin with the bad here? One might think, “Men stand when they pee… this idea is BRILLIANT!” No. There is nothing okay with urinals. First, you always (ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS) spray back/splash yourself with urine mist. You can try aiming in the corner, near the urinal cake, or wherever. Even if you find an old-fashioned restroom with the 5-foot tall urinal towers your shoes still get splashed all over. It’s absurd. I am not at Disney World. This is NOT Splash Mountain. Goodbye.
Also, why can’t the urinals be in separate stalls? Like, I do not enjoy whipping out my master of ceremonies while I can feel the breath of the guy beside me doing the same thing. At least about 75% of men’s restrooms actually have small dividers between the stalls (even if you can just see everything behind the crack/opening as it reflects of the tile wall. I guess that’s something. Whatever. And please, do NOT talk to me while we are pissing. Also, think back on what I said about urine sap prior to this. I want you to understand that the floor beneath a urinal is stickier than carpet tape, Gorilla glue, and shower jizz COMBINED.
LORD, HAVE MERCY! For those of you who don’t know what a trough is, you must not have been around farm life. Troughs were created as a long, narrow, open container for animals to eat or drink out of. Surely they were not created for men to stand with their shoulders and elbows brushing up against each other while they pee. Even being gay I do not want to see wall to wall cocks pissing in the same long, trough. Not my idea of anything remotely pleasant. And why do most gay bars have them? The last time I used one a man stood there watching me as I unzipped my pants. He literally knelt forward and was staring right at my fly waiting for me to whip knight him with my bologna baton. Rubbing his face and licking his lips like I was just some chicken (gay pun intended). Needless to say, I had some choice words for him and his trashiness and refused to continue until he got his face out of my boxer briefs. Some people can just act like disgusting, bottom-feeding, sea urchin trash. C’est la vie!
4. Men Are Full Of It, Literally
I just want to pee in private. I have never walked into a restroom at work without one or both of the stalls being occupied by squatters. Men are full of shit, literally. ALL DAY LONG. Why are you grunting SO loudly? Are you murdering a child in there? Why didn’t you go at home? And why didn’t you WASH YOUR HANDS after you came out and made eye contact? GROSS! Can’t handle it. I’d rather get a bladder infection than force myself in those situations again.
5. No ADA Seal of Approval
My dentist bitches when I am honest that I don’t brush or floss at work. Um, bye. I refuse to put anything in my mouth that has been on any surface of a public restroom or even in the air of one. Like I said, I can’t go in there without someone droppin’ a deuce that puts The Wall Street Bombing of 1920 to shame. Every fiber of my being screams how wrong and gross it would be to brush my teeth and floss while there is a reenactment from Human Centipede in the stall behind me. I just can’t. Give me cavities. Give me root canals. That’s why I purchase Premium Dental Healthcare. What’s next? Clipping your toenails over the sink? Pass.
So now you know what goes through my mind daily as I work. In a corporate banking environment. With professionals. In suits and ties. It’s one flickering light away from serving as the next filming location for Saw. Prayers needed!