MSI You're In
Sometimes, I wish I could go back in time and kill the person who invented that cursed device known as the urinal. These wretched hunk of porcelain have irked me for as long as I can remember, up to and including today. They serve no additional purpose over the common toilet, yet in any public male-only bathroom, you're sure to find more urinals than toilets. Why? This one is beyond myself.
They have nothing that good old toilets don't, and in fact, they're missing the core functions that a toilet can provide. Shopping at Wal*Mart and find that your stomach has decided now is the time to expunge that cheesesteak you ate earlier? While that disease-ridden bathroom is sure to have twenty available urinals, you'd better hope that someone hasn't decided to occupy that sole toilet, else that sphincter muscle of yours is about to get some exercise in holding back the gravy floods. While hovering your buttocks over top of the urinal ledge and depositing a brown paycheck is certainly possible, this shouldn't be attempted due to the chance of accidentally making contact between said buttocks and the piss-covered urinal wall. Worse yet, what if you walk into your not-so-local Target and find that the sole bathroom in the store houses five available urinals, and one lone, shit-covered toilet? Sitting my ass down on a toilet that looks like it was sprayed with a Super-Shit-Soaker 5000 is a bit beyond my idea of pleasant. Had the person in charge of putting together this bathroom been a urinal-hater such as myself, there could have been six toilets instead of one plus five urinals.
On to the other side of the nasties, we have the act of urinating... the prime usage of the urinal. How, praytell, does a urinals convenience outweigh that of your garden-variety toilet? You have two methods of making use of said urinal... you can either move in for the kill at a close range and wind up with a backlash of spray against your junk and trousers, or stand back a bit and risk it all. Risk? What risks, you ask? The potential for a fairy-man to walk in and pull up next to yourself for one, or worse yet, a Chinese fellow could hitch up to the neighboring post, laugh at your tiny package, and spread the word amongst other shoppers and have you laughed into the Kleenex department. No fun either way, so you're forced to deal with wet trousers or voyeurs. I prefer the toilet, thank you very much.
Bottom line... why does the urinal exist? I see no reason for it to be in any bathroom I journey into, and therefore, I sometimes wish I could go back in time and kill the person who invented that cursed device known as the urinal.