(no subject)
Shit-Talking
I feel it is my duty to mention another of my pet peeves which has become all too ubiquitous nowadays, in hopes that I might nip this behavior in the bud and prevent such an awkward fate from befalling others.
Yes, I am referring to the nefarious bathroom chatters.
When I go into a public restroom, I expect it to be like a monastery. I demand the utmost silence and fearful respect for the unholiest of human holies. The bathroom is not the sort of place to continue a conversation. It is a waste repository, not a café, and should be filled only with the sounds of cleansing and purging.
But increasingly often, I’ll go into a bathroom and see guys chatting with each other while at the urinals or worse, talking to each other through the stalls, the conversation punctuated by a chorus of other, less-agreeable bathroom noises.
I’m sorry, but nothing is creepier than hearing someone talk and then, mid-sentence, hearing a simultaneous stream of urine cascade into the bowl.
Now, I am told by my roommate Christine that girls have a different policy on bathroom-chatting, and talking is quite permissible while peeing. In fact, talking is encouraged - but only during “dainty streams,” added Genevieve, and not apparently heavier flows. This only proves to me, however, that the female world is dictated by an impossibly large and intricate series of unspoken rules, inferences, gestures, and subtle nuances, the likes of which I will never understand.
Public men’s restrooms, with all the germs and noises and bad odors, already make me uncomfortable, especially when they’re crowded. I won’t even use a urinal, myself - I don’t like the idea of a row of gentlemen, all peeing concurrently into a wall. I usually make a direct route toward the handicap stall, with all its spacious grandeur, and do my business there. One time, I came out, and a man in a wheelchair yelled at me for using his stall, but I didn’t really do anything except say that I didn’t see his name on it, unless his name was Sanitary Guard. He became angrier, but I didn’t care because, well, he clearly wasn’t going to chase me.
The second-most awkward thing to happen in a common bathroom situation is for someone to start talking to me, while they stand at a urinal.
“Hey Chris,” they’d shout, “how ya been, buddy? I’d shake your hand, but… you understand…”
I’m usually so aghast, I don’t even know how to react, so I used to not say anything. This, I have discovered, only makes it worse, though, for when I didn’t respond, the person would usually say something even more repugnant: “Whoa man, did you fall in? Or is it just taking full concentration, yar har har!”
But hands-down, the worst thing that has ever happened to me involving bathroom-chatter involved a stall, in the gym, at UCLA. I hear this has happened to other people, too, so at least I’m not totally embarrassed to admit it.
It was late at night, and so there weren’t many people at the gym, anyway. So, I go into the small bathroom, which is hardly ever used, but also reverberates quite loudly, effectively broadcasting any sounds made therein to the outside world. Since the stall was occupied, I went to the urinal, despite my better judgment. It was quiet, except for the hum of the lights, but then I heard the person in the stall say, “Yeah, so what’s up?”
I was mortified, of course, but decided to answer and say “Well, uh, nothing,” hoping that a response would shut him up and I could leave as fast as I can. The sounds echoed, and I was afraid someone would walk by and hear this clumsy conversation.
But he laughed! He laughed, assumably at me, and then asked, “What are you doing later?”
And now, besides being just gross, in general, as well as particularly rude to do while shitting, this was crossing the line into the utterly bizarre. Was I being picked up, in the bathroom? Suddenly I wanted to finish and flee as fast as I could. But, as I was almost finished, I felt emboldened and said, in as authoritative a tone as I could muster, “I don’t think that’s any of your business, least of all when you’re talking to me from a bathroom stall.”
And then, the worst thing in the world happened. He replied again, this time saying, “Hey, lemme call you back. Some guy thinks I’m talking to him. Yeah, I know. Bye.”
*beep*
So, I actually did leave the bathroom, only to run to the place he’d least likely be able to find me right after - the other bathroom. There, I washed my hands, and right after that I left. I guess talking to other people in public restrooms is rude, but I completely overlooked the sect of people who talk on phones in public restrooms.
“Can you hear me now?”
I feel it is my duty to mention another of my pet peeves which has become all too ubiquitous nowadays, in hopes that I might nip this behavior in the bud and prevent such an awkward fate from befalling others.
Yes, I am referring to the nefarious bathroom chatters.
When I go into a public restroom, I expect it to be like a monastery. I demand the utmost silence and fearful respect for the unholiest of human holies. The bathroom is not the sort of place to continue a conversation. It is a waste repository, not a café, and should be filled only with the sounds of cleansing and purging.
But increasingly often, I’ll go into a bathroom and see guys chatting with each other while at the urinals or worse, talking to each other through the stalls, the conversation punctuated by a chorus of other, less-agreeable bathroom noises.
I’m sorry, but nothing is creepier than hearing someone talk and then, mid-sentence, hearing a simultaneous stream of urine cascade into the bowl.
Now, I am told by my roommate Christine that girls have a different policy on bathroom-chatting, and talking is quite permissible while peeing. In fact, talking is encouraged - but only during “dainty streams,” added Genevieve, and not apparently heavier flows. This only proves to me, however, that the female world is dictated by an impossibly large and intricate series of unspoken rules, inferences, gestures, and subtle nuances, the likes of which I will never understand.
Public men’s restrooms, with all the germs and noises and bad odors, already make me uncomfortable, especially when they’re crowded. I won’t even use a urinal, myself - I don’t like the idea of a row of gentlemen, all peeing concurrently into a wall. I usually make a direct route toward the handicap stall, with all its spacious grandeur, and do my business there. One time, I came out, and a man in a wheelchair yelled at me for using his stall, but I didn’t really do anything except say that I didn’t see his name on it, unless his name was Sanitary Guard. He became angrier, but I didn’t care because, well, he clearly wasn’t going to chase me.
The second-most awkward thing to happen in a common bathroom situation is for someone to start talking to me, while they stand at a urinal.
“Hey Chris,” they’d shout, “how ya been, buddy? I’d shake your hand, but… you understand…”
I’m usually so aghast, I don’t even know how to react, so I used to not say anything. This, I have discovered, only makes it worse, though, for when I didn’t respond, the person would usually say something even more repugnant: “Whoa man, did you fall in? Or is it just taking full concentration, yar har har!”
But hands-down, the worst thing that has ever happened to me involving bathroom-chatter involved a stall, in the gym, at UCLA. I hear this has happened to other people, too, so at least I’m not totally embarrassed to admit it.
It was late at night, and so there weren’t many people at the gym, anyway. So, I go into the small bathroom, which is hardly ever used, but also reverberates quite loudly, effectively broadcasting any sounds made therein to the outside world. Since the stall was occupied, I went to the urinal, despite my better judgment. It was quiet, except for the hum of the lights, but then I heard the person in the stall say, “Yeah, so what’s up?”
I was mortified, of course, but decided to answer and say “Well, uh, nothing,” hoping that a response would shut him up and I could leave as fast as I can. The sounds echoed, and I was afraid someone would walk by and hear this clumsy conversation.
But he laughed! He laughed, assumably at me, and then asked, “What are you doing later?”
And now, besides being just gross, in general, as well as particularly rude to do while shitting, this was crossing the line into the utterly bizarre. Was I being picked up, in the bathroom? Suddenly I wanted to finish and flee as fast as I could. But, as I was almost finished, I felt emboldened and said, in as authoritative a tone as I could muster, “I don’t think that’s any of your business, least of all when you’re talking to me from a bathroom stall.”
And then, the worst thing in the world happened. He replied again, this time saying, “Hey, lemme call you back. Some guy thinks I’m talking to him. Yeah, I know. Bye.”
*beep*
So, I actually did leave the bathroom, only to run to the place he’d least likely be able to find me right after - the other bathroom. There, I washed my hands, and right after that I left. I guess talking to other people in public restrooms is rude, but I completely overlooked the sect of people who talk on phones in public restrooms.
“Can you hear me now?”