Bathroom Behavior Part I

It was only a matter of time before I wrote this. Also, I just dumped hot chocolate all over my leg, so it looks like I drizzled diarrhea out of my johnson. Anyway, being that I visit the rest room more often than most, I've been exposed to some sights/sounds and situations that I have general questions about, and thoughts to share. Most of these revolve around napping in the stall. Originally, this lead me to consider and talk about my findings regarding an often asked question by men, but as it made the piece excessively long, I've separated my thoughts on hand-washing into Part II. So.

Napping. I nap on the toilet at least once a day. Initially, I did this with my pants down because it felt weird to sit on a toilet with pants on, but I've gotten used to it and it's way more comfortable. Although, this only applies when using the spacious handicapped stall (which also sports the wheelchair assistance bar for arm-resting), which does not allow outsiders to view my feet. In the normal stall, its gotta be pants around ankles to waylay any suspicion...although usually I'll leave the boxers up for warmth. At any rate, bathroom napping is a great choice, and usually makes my day more interesting.

The first interesting situation that arises, is related to the unfortunate need to pull down my pants when I'm not actually moving my bowels. Not getting "caught" napping. This becomes an issue when my 15 min are up (that's when my computer screen will go into screen saver mode), and there's someone in the next stall. Clearly I can't just get up and walk out. Maybe I give my fellow occupants more credit for awareness than they deserve, but if I thought I was taking a dump alone, then suddenly I hear someone just walk out of the other stall - no wipe or flush - I'd be like "What the fuck?"

So my first course of action is to wait them out. Depending on how long the've been at it, this is more feasible. And it beats the hell out of the other option: faking finishing up a shit. First, there's the fidling around with the toilet paper roll to feign several wipes. The gratuitous empty-bowl flush I find particularly wasteful. But the worst part, by far, is the pretend hand-wash. I don't like to wash my hands unless absolutely necessary (As I'll make clear in Pt. II), so acting out the whole process for someone else's benefit is a real pain in the ass. And yes, there is enough of a gap in the stall doors that you can see someone as they walk by, so if I can be spotted after making it seem like I'm exiting after a poo, then regretably etiquette dictates I need to give the impression that I'm washing my hands. At any rate, running the water for a bit, jiggling the paper towel dispenser handle, and rustling the paper does a fair enough deception as far as I can tell. You can see why I'd prefer not to go through all this, just to get a quick doze.

Another entertaining benefit of napping is that I get to hear my bosses and other middle-aged businessmen play the porcelain trombone. It's best when I can identify the composer by his shoes, because then I can put a face to the sounds of struggle, relief, and rectal destruction coming from the other stall. I would never have imagined that successful, middle-aged men had such serious gastrointestinal troubles. These guys make the fart machine noises nobody really thinks exist au naturale. Machine gun diarrhea, triple flutter blasts, squeakers...if you've imagined it, I've heard it. I also didn't realize people actually moaned and grunted (except to entertain your buddies). These are grown men - professionals. Better yet is the dramatic sigh in relief after a splashdown. Literally sighing. "Plop!..uuuooohhhh." Really? Of course, they might not be as candid if they knew I was trying to nap next door.