I don’t blame you, and I don’t think an anonymous penis poking into a ladies’ room stall is something most women would feel like taking in the spirit in which it was meant anyway. You might pull it back with a used tampon tied onto it, which would probably be a real mood-killer.
That’s pretty much my love-making technique.
Apparently not: Larry Craig scandal - Wikipedia
I’ve always imagined that two consenting males would occupy the adjacent stalls, so it wasn’t a question of a stranger’s penis randomly obtruding itself into your stall while you’re sitting there reading about this year’s football recruitment at your old college. Though presumably mistakes do happen.
I first encountered the term in reference to a (possibly specific) dam intake at a reservoir. Apparently, a wide pipe is set near enough to the current water level that, as the water rushes into it, there appears to be a hole in the surface of the lake. I thought it was a general term for this arrangement but I can’t find it as such, so it may have been specific to this particular dam.
Who says the civilians wanted the cops to get involved. I think Clothahump’s post said that there was screaming, so somebody else probably called the cops on them.
No, it was a solid metal partition. Except that it ended about a foot or so above the floor, with that bottom portion open. It was through that part that Sen. Craig (R.-Idaho) stuck his hand under and signaled with a jerking-off motion, and the police officer responded by sticking his hand with his badge under the partition.
Since the publicity over that incident, many people stopped in to take pictures in that stall. So now the airport commission has spent about $100,000 of public taxes to replace those partitions with ones that come all the way to the floor.
Not only did my college library have them, but whoever was drilling them was damned persistent. Many of the stall dividers were covered with plate after riveted plate in a ceaseless battle against glory by school custodians. They looked like the war-torn and poorly patched-up hull of a battleship.
I’m not sure how it was even being done. Surely a power drill would’ve attracted attention… were there really desperate fellators/ees sitting in the stall for hours, punching away with an awl like Eastwood trying to escape from Alcatraz? And if you did manage to open a hole big enough to admit a penis, wouldn’t the edge be prohibitively jagged?
I wondered whether they were mainly used as peepholes, rather than as gateways to anonymous blowjobbery. Whatever they were, they required a shitload of sheet metal to keep repairing.
Do you, like, have a newsletter or whatever?
Did you go to UCLA? Because I sure do remember that the first-floor men’s room in Powell was particularly afflicted by this. Some years later they replaced the stall doors with minimal ones that no longer concealed the user’s lower legs, or head and shoulders if standing. I don’t know if it had the intended effect, because I stopped using that restroom after that. I like privacy when I have to use a stall, and those just didn’t have it anymore.
Pretty much every college campus has a restroom or two that has that reputation. I went to UCSD and there was one in the building that housed Humanities and Theatre. I don’t recall any holes in the stall walls but there was always lots of graffiti mentioning meet up dates and times. Usually it was for times between 3 and 5 am. The campus cops would periodically set up stings.
How on earth are they cutting these holes in steel bathroom stall walls? 
I though that a “Glory Hole” was a hole in a glassmaker’s furnace wall, where the glass blowers would insert their blowpipes. They would then withdraw the pipe, with a pice of liquid glass on the ned.
…I hate that you beat me to it. I have seen that same film. It’s included with a documentary on the history of film porn.
And fought over whose turn it was to put his dick through the hole, I bet.
And no, never attended UCLA. It’s apparently a nationwide (or at least interstate) problem!
Metaphorically, it’s not too far from the truth.
Or not.
Just to add - the gents’ toilets in the basement of the Strand campus of King’s College London were a well-known, not to say renowned, cottage when I was a student there. As far as I know it was mostly used by people who were not students at that university.
Yeah, I laughed when I read it there, too. But the guy with the burned dick wasn’t laughing when we got there.
Back then, the wall in question was particle board.
I though it was a term that comes from mining.