You’re In Al
[Ed. Note: In keeping with my recent string of self-plagiarism, this is a post originally “published” 09/10/02.
There is a curious subset of social behavior which, just now, intrigues me: urinal usage. As men often have little choice of micturation equipment while in the public domain, the urinal is a ubiquitous intersection of male behavior. I have, over my many years, noticed differences of behavior, and they have tended to fit neatly into some basic types:
- {The Aristocrat}—I approach the urinal, flush, and only then do I unzip and disembark my monkey. This may be the result of some sort of obsessive-compulsive disorder, a severe aversion to the even remote probability of splashback of someone else’s urine, or a very strong attraction to the pungent odor of a freshly sprayed deodorant puck. I am likely to be an older, well-dressed man, with pleated and pressed slacks, not pants.
- {The Watcher}—While I’m relieving myself, I like to take a moment and “smell the roses,” as it were. I will likely look all around the restroom, savoring the sterility of the tile. If you’ve joined me at the urinal wall, I might even look at you and smile, possibly even starting up conversation. There’s nothing like squeezing hot bodily waste out my urethra to make me loquacious. I have no compunction about staring right at you, or looking you up and down, whether you’re uncomfortable with it or not. I’ve probably been beaten up in a bathroom before, because of this.
- {The Playful Idiot}—I walk up to the urinal looking for a good time. I can’t stand to be perfectly utilitarian about my peeing, so I’m hoping for some floating distractions or at least an interesting urinal geometry to hold my attention. I’ll gyrate quite a bit shooting at cigarette butts, dead insects, or the deodorant puck. If there is nothing else to do, I might investigate the most efficient angle of evacuation to minimize time-to-drain. I’m likely to be of any age, and studying math and / or physics by choice.
- {The Priest}—I am zealously clean about purging my body of impurities. I have most likely developed a maneuver that will allow me to finish this beastly business without actually touching my penis, so that I can keep my hands clean. In some cases, this might involve young boys.
- {The Hermit}—I do not use urinals. I require the privacy of a stall, and will hold it until one is available. My antisocial tendencies have likely been reinforced by several episodes of soiling myself while waiting for a stall to become available. If I accidentally make eye contact with you in the restroom, I’m equally likely to run or beat you with the taxidermically stuffed mouse I keep in my pants pocket for protection and company.
I have recently received a research grant from a symposium sponsored by American Standard and Kleen to conduct more in-depth studies about restroom behavior. I aspire to eventually make it to Europe and elsewhere abroad to conduct similar studies among bidet users, as well as those simply defecating and urinating in the wild. Donations to my worthy cause are, of course, quite welcome.
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