Nurse the Hate: Hate the Men's Room
There are two different types of people in the world. Don’t get hung up on religion, sex, race or
any other ridiculous tangents. Those are
only window dressing compared with the one stark contrast between all people on
this planet. This is not a matter of
opinion. This is a stark reality. The two types of people are 1) Those that
will shit anywhere and 2) Those that do not.
I have worked in the same place for almost a decade. I have shit here twice, both matters of
extreme gastrointestinal crisis that required immediate attention. Meanwhile there are a few men that work here
that are shitting anytime I walk into The Heart of Darkness (i.e. the second
floor men’s room). One of these guys
spends his entire day doing nothing but taking shits and smoking in the parking
lot. I literally don’t think he does any
actual “work”, but is paid to come here for eight hours to defecate like a filthy
animal. Thank goodness he found this
place as I never receive emails from recruiters looking for “focused
experienced defecation expert that can sit in company rest room for multiple
hours daily”. Sometimes when I walk into
The Heart of Darkness I make a quiet gagging noise when this guy is really
tearing it up in there. If he was a
family dog, you’d say “I think he got into something”. I often wonder if I should call an ambulance
as what is going on in this room cannot be a sign of good health.
I require a degree of privacy. Most company men’s rooms have the privacy
akin to a bus station rest room. I can’t
imagine just sitting down in a crowd and letting it rip like that. I need to have everything just right. Contrast that with Leo, who is sort of like a
goat. I remember one time I had given
him some off brand Chinese energy drink I saw tucked away in a corner of a gas
station cooler. Within ten minutes of
drinking it he was complaining of stomach pains. Five minutes later he told me “Dude, you need
to get off at the next exit… Or pull
over right now!”. We pulled into one of
those rural exits where someone had added on to a gas station with a Dairy
Queen, tacked on a convenient store, and then a Subway counter. As a result the men’s room was sort of in the
middle of the place about five feet from the Dairy Queen customer line and ten
feet from the cashier for the gas. On
top of that they used a cheap thin wooden door to the single stall
facility. It was a real hack
construction job.
I was paying for gas when Leo walked in to the place. He made a beeline for the men’s room. It was more like a stage than a
bathroom. It was literally the center of
the room, sort of the “soul of the building”.
It didn’t take long. The entire
building sort of rumbled when he “released”.
A mother grabbed her daughter and pulled her close in the Dairy Queen
line. That is the God’s honest
truth. I walked out of the place quickly
to try and distance myself from the horrible scenario unfolding in the
place. About ten minutes later Leo
walked out. Hey, how did that go in
there? Leo calmly sat down in the van
and said “It was an expression of pure power”.
He would shit in a bucket in the middle of the room if that is what was
available. He just doesn’t care.
I was in Kentucky once playing a show with Hogscraper. It was a pretty big place that for some
reason had a men’s room much too small for the capacity. There were 300 people there with two urinals
and one toilet in a stall without a door.
When it became apparent that I would need a toilet, I knew there was no
way in hell I could go in there. “Hey,
there’s a cowboy taking a shit in there!
Go take a look!”. No thanks.
I walked outside sure I would find a restaurant nearby that
would offer something acceptable. Of
course, there was nothing but closed retail businesses everywhere. A couple blocks away I saw some lighting on a
door, sort of colonial in style that suggested a high end restaurant. That had to be better than the doomsday
scenario at the club. By this time my
situation had reached a bit of a higher priority, sort of a DefCon 4
level. I walked briskly to the lights
sort of squeezing my ass together. “Look
at that funny looking cowboy over there Sheila!”. By the time I got close to the lights I
realized it wasn’t a restaurant but a law office. Making matters worse, the entire area was
residential. I was in real trouble
here. I had two options. Try to make it back, or find somewhere to go
in the immediate area.
I would like to use this space to formally apologize to the
residents of the apartment complex where I shit in a dark corner of their
courtyard. I would imagine that some
residents that spotted what I left behind and became worried that a bear or
maybe werewolf had taken up the area as a hunting ground. That would have been logical. I remember thinking that I hoped no one would
walk out of the front doors to discover me squatted over like a feral dog. It was not my finest hour. I sort of padded off with some leaves and
hoped I could do a more thorough clean up back at the club. (I did, timing it with the first band’s stage
entrance, though it was rather awkward when some guy walked in the men’s room at
the very end of my procedure. I pretended
that nothing odd was going on which I do not think was effective.)
This horrible incident has left a scar in my mind. Yet, I don’t think it would even be
considered as odd to the “other type” of people. I knew a guy that took a dump on a totally
exposed toilet in a punk rock club during a show once. I know another guy that used to shit in Ray’s
in Kent on Friday nights even as the door to the men’s room was open with
college students waiting in line to take beer pisses. He was so unfazed he used to read the
paper. People would walk by the open
door to get a beer and see him seated on the toilet reading the sports
page. Is that learned behavior or
genetic? Nature or nurture? My guess is he came from a long line of men
that shit anywhere. “Son, I shit in
Times Square in a trash can on VJ Day.
Now get in that stadium men’s room and do your business!”.
I am going to a show tonight. I have no doubt I will walk into the filthy
club bathroom and discover a guy shitting like a mad ape despite a crowd of
people. It’s a world filled with diversity. He might be one of “those” people, but I will
try to see him as just another person like myself. I will try to see him as a brother. I’ll tell you this though. I’m not shaking his hand.
3 Comments:
When I have to go at work I make sure that I go to this isolated bathroom, and even then I'm courtesy flushing like crazy. I'm not thinking green in a case like that.
is it wrong that i find your personal poop stories so funny? yes, yes it is...but i can't be the only one, and also, it's probably safe to assume you'll never run out of new "material".
It is common ground that we all share. It also enables us to come to the stark reality that many of us are no better than barnyard animals.
P.S. That guy was in the men's again this morning launching an absolutely devastating operation.
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