Pissed off

It is time to talk about one of my biggest pet peeves of all time. Conversations in public toilets. Where in this great big universe does it state that you have to talk to me while I’m pissing? Seriously. There are public toilets all over the place for one reason, and one reason only: To urinate and defecate in peace.

If I want to have a conversation with you, I’ll phone you, or go to your office. I’ll invite you over for coffee. I’m not going to invite you for a piss. In a public toilet I do not care how you are doing? I don’t care “what’s up?” I definitely do not want to discuss the latest office gossip, or even work.

As if it is not uncomfortable enough that you have to watch me while I’m trying to piss, do not dare speak at me. Now, I am painfully aware that this process happens differently for the fairer sex. Apparently, you are able to gossip and piss at the same time. Well in my case, the age old adage is true: God gave men a brain and a penis and only enough blood to run one at a time.

I used to have a deep seated fear of public toilets. They absolutely freaked me out. Till about 5 years ago, I refused to use them. I still avoid the dodgy ones as much as possible. Funnily enough, I had absolutely no qualms about using them for other activities, especially during my high school years, when the toilets were the place where I got my hourly nicotine fix. But then again, in high school no one uses the toilets for their intended purpose.

So you might wonder where this random rant came from, and fear not, I will tell you. So I was in the loo at work when Colleague walked in. Now Colleague works on the other side of the building, a place that I rarely go to, except when I go steal sweets from a friends office (more on that later). Of the three urinals, the two on the left were open. So, because Murphy is duly aware of my intense hatred for discussions around the pisser, Colleague would choose the one next to me and proceed to ask me how my day was. Being the poster child for friendliness, I answered him curtly in an attempt to get him placated and have him shut up. But, alas! No such luck. He proceeded to start talking about work, and every so often looking at me, dangerously ruining his posture and with that, his aim.

So I finish up, and turn to the washing basins, and would mister go and turn around as well, completely forgetting what he was busy with. Luckily for me, I was out of the splash zone, but still. It was close! None of this would have happened if Mister Colleague just kept his trap shut and pissed like a normal person.

So this post was born out of almost being pissed on. Universe, take note: The next person to speak to me while I attempt to alleviate the pressure in my bladder, will be pissing through a tube the next time he has to. Be warned.