The most horrible theatre bathroom I ever saw was at the now-closed Captiol 6 multiplex. When it got busy, for some reason some quirk of its designed somehow conspired with the class of its patrons to create a lake of urine around the urinals. People would stand further and further back, to keep their shoes out of it, and the lake would grow exponentially.
I remember queueing up for a urinal there once, and only when the fellow that was in front of me finished his business and turned around to walk out, I noticed that he had been holding a sandwich in his hand the entire time. Nice.
I was in a mall one time (about 20 years ago) in the middle of the weekday. I went in the restroom to pee. The two urinals in the room were crammed pretty close together with a tiny divider between them. I was having one of those episodes where you had to pee pretty bad but when you are standing there at the urinal all of a sudden you don’t, yet you know if you just wait a couple seconds, it’ll come. So this guy comes in and stands next to me at the next urinal, unzips and starts noisily masturbating (or simulating) and moaning. It sounds as if he’s actually whacking his dick against the urinal. Sure enough just as I realize what he’s doing, I start to pee and had to endure that BS through what seemed to be 80 gallons of urine.
The summer after I graduated from high school, I had a job doing data entry for an insurance company. It was boring as hell, so I used to camp out in the men’s room regularly in the morning, reading the paper and engaging in other activities.
One morning I’m in there staring at the dots on the ceiling tiles, when in come the operations manager and my boss. They’re in the middle of a job-related conversation. Without interrupting the conversation, my boss went into the stall next to mine, dropped his pants and cracked a tremendous fart as his ass hit the bowl: FFFFFTTTTOHH YEAHHH!!
I thought to myself, “So this is how it is in corporate America.”
Back in college, I had occasion to overindulge in alcohol. One evening I hit the bathroom, sat down in a stall to pee, rested my head down on my arms and passed out for an undetermined amount of time.
I woke (came to) to the sound of a girl-fight going on in the bathroom outside my stall. Two female hockey players lived down the hall, had some disagreement, and for whatever reason decided to hash it out in the bathroom. Where I was sleeping. This was not just an argument – they were punching and pounding each other, yelling and cursing. I hid in the stall until it was over, tiptoed out and looked around. The girls were gone, but there was blood everywhere. Smeared on the walls and even in little pools on the floor.
I retreated to my room and found out later that they had each broken the other’s nose, continued to room together, and I was scared of them the rest of my college life. I don’t think either of them ever knew I was there.
I visited a bar while I was in college, along with a group of friends. Every so often there would be a loud buzzing noise from the back, where the restrooms were. It seemed that at the same time a girl would emerge from the bathroom with her face bright red. She might be laughed at or cheered.
Time came when I needed to go. So I go into a stall. There on the side of the stall is a picture of a mostly naked man. His only covering was a little trap door hanging down, like Tarzan’s loincloth. Big capital letters said DO NOT LIFT THIS. So of course I did, and that triggered the buzzer. with me getting my share of mockery when I left.
But did I tell the other women in my party? Heck no! I wasn’t going to be the only one in the group to be fooled.
We were driving up to Detroit from Chicago with a friend of ours who grew up in Michigan. He was insistent that Michigan rest stops were notorious for “bathroom encounters”. We stopped at one, and after I finished at the urinals and washed up, I decided to check the stalls to see if I could confirm my friend’s conviction.
As I was doing this a guy walks in and asks, “Checking for a clean one?” I quickly shot back, “Nope, just checkin’ for glory holes!”
This man turned beet red and quickly rattled off, “Oh Well! I wouldn’t know anything about that!” I just laughed on the way out.
Having lunch with my cousin and his family, I offered to accompany their young daughter (about 3 years old) to the bathroom. When she’s finished her business, she announced, “I can wipe myself except when I poop. . .and I pooped!”
Honestly, I really had no idea what to do! :eek: I’ve not hung out with young kids very much.
Luckly, she did. She opened the door and “assumed the position”. . .bent over and touching her toes!
It was 3am and a marathon Dungeons and Dragons session had just been concluded. My friend’s elf had been disintegrated by the laughing necromancer manager of an undead brothel. To distract my friend from his loss, we all went to Denny’s. I ordered and headed for the bathroom.
As I walk in, there is a man standing over a four foot wide puddle of vomit in the middle of the restroom, puke on his shirt, and puke on his pants. “Wuhhh, watcchh out for that,” he slurred. As if I might miss it.
I was young, maybe not even a teen yet, and my dad and I were having lunch at a sub shop. I head for the restroom, and intercept a father and his very young (maybe 5-6 year old) son coming away from them. I got the entire story from the one sentence I heard the father say to the son:
“Well didn’t you figure out there was something wrong when you didn’t see no stand-ups?”
Actually, the thread around the time of the Larry Craig thing was quite informative.
As for my own bathroom story, I’m afraid I don’t have much to share. However, last summer, when my two year old daughter was just barely potty trained, we spent about 20 minutes in a gas station bathroom on a road trip while she worked on a poop. It was a pretty high traffic bathroom with only two stalls - lots of people came and went while we were in there. She spent the entire time singing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” in her very high, squeaky voice. I was laughing uncontrollably by the time she was ready to go.
And then there was the time when I took my four year old son to Mt. Vernon on a day with a lot of historical reenactment stuff going on. It was his first trip to a men’s room by himself. I stood patiently outside and waited for him for what seemed like forever. Eventually, a guy in Revolutionary Army attire came out and asked me if I was waiting for a little boy. He then said he thought it would be a while - the kid was very fascinated by everything that was going on in there. Fortunately, my son came out of there before I could die of embarrassment.
I once walked into the men’s room at work to see one of my bosses standing at the urinal, his khakis all the down around his ankles, wearing leopard print speedo-style briefs.
I was at the civic center in Mobile, Alabama for an exhibit when I had to drain the lizard. It’s an older building (or parts of it are anyway)- probably 1930s or so, which I mention because it’s relevant.
I went down a hall in the older section and saw two restrooms. The first one was the Ladie’s Room. We’ll call this restroom ‘A’, and the one next to it ‘B’.
I figured the one next to the Ladies Room would be the Ladies Room. What else would it be- transvestites? Kids?
So I went in and saw no urinals. I thought “well this is weird”, but it’s an older building, so old the stalls are made of dark varnished wood, maybe urinals aren’t as old as thought they were. So I went into a stall and used it and came out and saw a plump older lady coming out of the stall next to me. Awkward moment before she just said “Hon, I think you erred”.
I go out and one of the women outside Restroom A said “Did you think that was the men’s room?”
I said, “Yes… because I thought that was the Ladies Room” and I looked at what I thought was the Ladies Room and it said
LADIES ROOM
There were two Ladies Rooms next door to each other. You might say that they were “separate but equal” ladies rooms. Building built in Alabama… pre Civil Rights era. Down the hall were two separate but equal and juxtaposed MEN’S ROOMS.
I worked in a nice office with a nice bathroom. There were a couple plants on the sink and even a table with trade magazines on it (which is kind of gross, actually).
Anyway, one day I walk in and noticed that there is a puddle of shit on the floor of one of the two stalls. Peeking through the crack of the closed stall door, I see that there is just a massive quantity of shit piled on the seat, spilling onto the floor and even on the wall behind the toilet. On the stall door is a hand-written sign: “Please don’t use; out of order.”
I was attending a trade school for motorcycle mechanics which had classes for both Harleys and for Japanese bikes. I went to take a leak one day, and someone had drawn a rising sun over all four urinals that stretched from waist level to the ceiling with the words “REMEMBER PEARL HARBOR!” written beneath. I took my pen and wrote “Yeah, they won.” in tiny letters in a corner of the artwork.
It was like I had pulled the pin on a grafitti bomb. Three days later, they had to repaint the entire bathroom to cover all of the follow up remarks that people added.
Burger King restroom: I’m taking a leak at the urinal while someone is noisily defecating. He finishes and exits the restroom without washing up. As I go back to my table, there he is, chowing down on his burger.
Mall restroom: I’m waiting outside for my wife, when a Dad and son (maybe 7 or so) emerge.
Mom’s look turns to horror as she spots the brown stripes down the back of son’s shirt, right after asking Dad if “everything went okay”. Boy did Dad look sheepish.
I went to a bathroom in a Texaco in Tennessee and was sitting there doing my business when I heard a lock turn. Finished, washed my hands and grabbed the door handle to leave, It was Locked! from the outside. The bastards had closed up and left for the day. The door was really heavy duty and you had to pull it inward to open it and I could not get it to budge at all and could not get anyone to hear me screaming and kicking at it.
Thre was a tiny window at the top of the door and by standing on a trash can I eventually got the thing open and with a great effort manged to crawl out the top and get out, It took over an hour.
