what i want to do

THE BATHROOM BLOG
with Barry Dingle

Maybe girls have this problem. I don't know. I don't know much about women and perhaps that's why I blog about toilets.

When you're a full grown man, and you're trying to make your peace with God in a public stall, you have to deal with anonymous walk-ins. Then the question becomes: Do I play it safe and camp out even though I'm finished, or do I storm the wash area like Normandy and allow someone who has an equally stinky anus to judge me for the evil I just unleashed onto the world?

Nine times out of ten I sit there and wait. That's because I'm a big pussy. Do I really think that I'm going to get a spanking for excessive flatulence, or failing to perform a courtesy flush because it's an automated toilet (a whole other post altogether), or because my grunts were louder that usual? Sadly, yes.

But if I wasn't me, if I was some superhero icon that had the ability to mold the world with my fingertips, I would have some fun with assholes like me.

I would walk in while another man was skipping rocks and I would make use of the urinal. I would wash my hands and open the door. But I wouldn't leave. The door would shut and I would still be there. And when that stank ass came out, I would stare at him with the creepiest of smiles and really soak in the whole experience. That moment would be ripe for a future painting, or an allegory to the yuppie scum who think their shit doesn't stink. It would be gorgeous.

So boys, and girls too for that matter, next time you're messing yourself in a public restroom, come out after everyone leaves and look for my face. It will be the one that haunts your dreams until you come to terms with your ass or begin to suffer from entropy's sweet senility.

1.9.09