Urinal House Rules
As most men know, there is a certain code to behavior in the mens room. It's quite complex to the uninitiated, but pretty obvious to most males.
While in SF for WWDC, I encountered a stranger who broke that code. One evening, Ken, Phil and I had gone to the bar at the top of the Marriott to have drinks and share war stories with Gav State of Transgaming. Naturally in the course of the evening, nature called me and I responded.
Now as a side note, I don't typically like using urinals in favor of toilets, mainly because I get "performance anxiety" if there are other people nearby. Don't ask me why, it just is. Furthermore, I know I'm not alone with this malady so I don't feel too embarrassed. Anyhoo, nature called and I entered the bathroom. Being empty, I chose a urinal, knowing that once things started flowing, my performance anxiety became a non-factor.
So nature started to take its course and another guy walked in. A very drunk and large black guy. As I was in mid-stream and focusing on ignoring him (as Etiquette demands), he decided to strike up a conversation.
"Hey buddy. Buddy! Can I ask you a question?" (This was clearly an inconvenient time for me, but I wasn't in a position to argue the point.)
"Yeah," I tersely replied.
"What is it with women? Why do they have to play these games?" (Phew! This wasn't going were I was fearing, so my relief was very nearly audible.)
He continued. "II buy a woman drinks, I dress up nice. I take her to a nice place and buy her dinner. But all she wants to do is play games. What is up with that?"
At this point, he expected a reply, and I was still in mid-stream. "I dunno," I replied as tersely as possible. Had this man no idea of bathroom etiquette? It was very clear to anyone within a 20 foot radius that I was not "idling" in front of the urinal, as it were. Why did I have to drink so much? I prayed that I wouldn't let off a noisy fart in the middle of his diatribe - I'd hate for the bro to think I'm not giving him his due props for working his velvet touch on a fine lady.
He continued on rambling about how he expected some sort of sexual favors from this woman because he had put out some money. I clearly wasn't in a position - or the mood - to explain the flaws to his argument, so I quickly finished up business and left, but not without washing my hands.
In closing, I can't emphasize this enough. The mens room is not a Social Club. Leave me alone when I'm peeing.