Flush Life

Gentlemen:

I can't believe this post has become necessary.

But sadly ... it has.

We need to brush up a little on a few matters of men's room etiquette because ... well, you know how things can get in there.

As you know, or as you should have been taught as a youngster ... there is a time and a place for everything.

One of the items on that "everything" list?

The making of sounds.

The place?

The Men's Room.

The time?

Well, that's what I'd like to talk to you about ...

Now I don't mean the disgusting sounds our bodies naturally make in that room. These sounds, while often regrettable and always revolting, are largely unavoidable. And as such, the Men's Room is really the only socially acceptable place for you to make those sounds in the presence of others.

For instance, it's generally permissible to pass gas at the urinal.

But DON'T stare fixedly into the eyes of the guy next to you and moan with pleasure while you do it.
Trust me on this. Adult teeth do not grow back.

WHEN YOU SHOULD MAKE NOISE

Okay, here are a couple basic rules of thumb ...

Here's the situation: You're in a stall and you hear someone come into the restroom.

Even if this scenario fills you with blind, white-knuckle panic that said person might be your boss, a serial killer, a fire-pissing Hell-Spawn from the Demon Pit or a co-worker who might accidentally open your stall door ... it is your responsibility to make some goddamn noise.

I don't mean you need to make with the plop-plop-wiz-wiz on command. Or that you need to announce yourself like a town crier, hollering the old classic: "Somebody's in here!"

But you really do need to let that person know, in some subtle way, that they should maybe not try to fling open the door to that stall.

Just clear your throat, shuffle your feet, fumble with the toilet paper roll, jingle your belt buckle, or my personal go-to ... give a nice, innocuous courtesy flush.

You can keep it subtle and still get the point across.

But do not ... and I can't stress this enough ... do NOT cower silently, unmoving, unblinking and unbreathing, like you're hiding Anne Frank from the Nazis.

This helps exactly no one.

Seriously. Who do you think is out there?

"Dad?"

Because falling utterly silent is pretty much the creepiest thing you can do.

This tells me you want that person to think there's nobody in that stall.

Which tells me you want them to yank that door open.

Which then tells me you want them to see you sitting there with your tender nethers all splayed akimbo.

Which ultimately tells me you're totally hoping they're into that.

But come on. Even if that's actually is your deal ... your creepy, creepy, probably diagnosable deal ... the odds of it being former Senator Larry Craig or 80s pop icon George Michael on the other side of the door are fairly slim.

"Wake me up before you ... you know ... "go-go" ..."

And don't overdo it. Just be subtle. Don't make it weird. Don't whistle a tune, do a little tap dance number, or -- (and this is a 100% real example that I have personally encountered) -- sing opera.

(Seriously, man. If you find yourself itching to perform an aria while a rope of effluent snakes its way out of your underself ... I'm not even sure Science has a word for what's wrong with you. Just knock it off.)

WHEN YOU SHOULD NOT MAKE NOISE

Don't talk to me.

It's not that I'm surly and unfriendly. (I mean, I often am, but that's not the point.) If I'm at a urinal, I'm not there to chat. About work, about the game, about the family ... about anything.

I have filthy business to conduct and I don't care to be distracted.

This is the chief reason that talk shows have couches instead of a bank of urinals. True story.

Rule of thumb: If my genitals are in my hands, it's not appropriate to speak to me.

If your genitals are in your hands, it's not appropriate to speak to me.

Basically, if anybody's genitals are in anybody's hands, it's not appropriate to speak to me.

Even if you desperately want to compliment me on my genitals or my hands.
Don't. Just don't.

And if I'm in a stall, it's super not appropriate to speak to me. Once that door closes, it is a sacred space. Inviolable. Where solemn, private business is conducted between a man and his shameful voidings.

Respect that.

Now, if we're at the sink ... that's a different story. It is perfectly permissible to hold a short conversation whilst washing up.

But keep it brief. This isn't the proper venue for a staff meeting.

I mean, Jesus ... people shit in this room.



Till next we meet ...



(Note: The preceding applies only to Men's Rooms. I cannot speak to the vagaries of decorum as they pertain to Ladies' Rooms. These are mystical and unknowable places.)

(Once you add couches and conversation areas to the pooping room, well, all rules of human interaction go right out the window.)