Ahhh, the public restroom urinal row.
Is there any place in the whole of the modern world man has constructed for himself that breeds more strange, uncomfortable, awful experiences than this porcelain-clad inescapability of the male human experience?
If you’re a man (or, to be fair, if you’re a woman who happens to have a penis), consider the emotions that go through your mind whilst peeing publicly: Fear, unease, distress. Men aren’t designed to dispose of urine in crowded movie theatres, stadiums or airports.
It’s far too intimate a process.
We’re not supposed to stand shoulder-to-shoulder next to our brethren, staring straight ahead as other men stare at our backs, impatiently waiting for us to shake it off so they, too, can have their own turn at unpleasantness. (What most are unaware of is that while you think I’m finishing up, I haven’t even been able to coax on the waterworks yet).
The whole situation isn’t just silently wrong, it’s straight up silently awkward.
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