Don’t Look Down

New WMD blogger here. Name’s Pears. Glad to be on board. Thanks to Dub J for bringing me on.

I’m from Philly originally, but right now my stomping grounds are the mean streets of Hartford, CT. Known mainly for being the insurance capital of the US and for it’s high per capita murder rates, people often overlook the brighter sides of Hartford. I’ll let you know when I figure out what they are.

Also, I’m an unashamed Philly sports fan, so excuse me if gloat at all about a certain team filled with Golden Gods of October.

And yes. The Eagles are 1-3. “Who’s the dream team now?” I get it. Let’s move on with our lives.

So I’ve seen some pretty weird topics discussed on WMD in the past, so I figured I’d start off with something maybe a little risqué, perhaps a little taboo, but it’s something that’s been bugging me for a while, and I need to address it. Today, I’d like to talk to you about urinals.

Before I start this rant, let me just say that I love urinals. They bring a lot to the table. No faster option if you’re trying to make a quick get-in, get-out men’s room stop. And if they have auto-flush sensors on them, you can even make a successful bathroom trip without touching anything. Can’t beat that.

What I do not love about them, however, is the social situations they present. Nothing worse than when you stride into the bathroom ready to blast a steady stream against the back of some porcelain, and just as you get ready to let loose, someone walks up the urinal right next to you. Suddenly this dream scenario has taken a turn. I have nightmares about the moment that occurs next.

Silence. What we have here is a stand off.

You can’t look at each other. No chance. But can you see each other? Damn right you can. Peripherals all up in that shit, showing you way more than you want to see. And one thing’s for sure, he can see you too. And no one is happy about it. Don’t even think about looking down.

So what do you do next? You listen. You don’t want to, but in that deafening bathroom silence you can’t help it. You can’t just turn your ears off. The worst part is, you know he’s listening to you too. And you can bet he’s just as unhappy about it.

So you stand there, and you wait. Wait to hear the gentle trickle coming from the urinal next to you.

A few things can happen from here. Ideally, you both just pee and go on with fighting your way through the work day, but it doesn’t always go so smoothly. More on this in my next article, when I’ll talk about all of the different variables that come into play at this stage, as well as give a personal account of the worst urinal experience of my life.

You’re excited. I can tell.