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The Stadium Men’s Room
I used to be terrified of using the restroom at sporting events. There you were, just a wee chap–timid at the thought of whipping out your cocktail weenie-sized member next to the dude who’s seven beers deep and just flopped his meat out of his fly and unleashed a stream that would rival a firehose. Stage fright took over and you just couldn’t. You shuffled back to your dad, sad and dejected. You feel like you let him down. Couldn’t even squeeze out a drop into the trough. Now, urinal troughs have gone the way of the dodo, just when you finally had enough confidence to let your hammer breathe the fresh air. Regardless of your level of confidence, pissing in a stadium is never enjoyable, especially when you’re sober, but I haven’t been to a sporting event sober in nearly a decade. The floors are soaked with freshly broken-seal piss and the smell of puke lingers in the air.
The Stuffy One
A close relative to the stadium men’s room, this bathroom has the feel and charm of a stuffy, backstreet Bangladeshi market. You’re breathing in other people’s breath, poop particles, and urine backsplash. No, really. Do you know how far your piss splashes away from the urinal? It’s disgusting. Of course, you’ll wait in line with the other schlubs just looking to drain the main vein and get out of there post haste. There will always be a guy who takes too long in one of the stalls, trying to grunt out a log that’s just not ready to crown.
The Dirty Airport Bathroom
I was recently connecting at Dallas Love and literally had two minutes to relieve myself between flights. I rushed to the nearest men’s room, which was a tiny, 7×7 prison cell with a urinal and regulation toilet perilously close to one another. In my hurry, I had completely neglected to observe my surroundings. There were boogers all over the walls, caked vomit on the floor, and the smell overcame me as I was about halfway through my pee sesh. No wonder these places are breeding grounds for disease.
The Loner
This is where people get murdered and truckers have sex with each other. The back of the toilet bowl looks like it was blown out by someone who sat at a perfect 45-degree angle and expelled their bowels with the force and fury of a torpedo missile. There are bugs; you just can’t see them. The exposed, rusty pipes rattle in an unsettling manner. The vent shimmies and clangs as you await your doom, preparing to meet your maker in the back of a Kum & Go in rural Iowa at the hands of the Tow Truck Penis Hacker serial killer. Also, they ran out of toilet paper, so you’re wiping with sandpaper-quality paper towels next to the sink.
Your Significant Other’s For The First Time
I can’t even begin to tell you how horrifying it is to drop the kids off at the pool at your BF or GF’s for the first time. It’ll be a matter of necessity. You planned poorly and didn’t evacuate your bowels on your own time and now you have to push one out without the comfort of home field advantage. You know they’ll be timing you. Any longer than two minutes and they’ll know. All romance will be ruined once your bae realizes you actually shit. You’ll pray and pray that it won’t be a long, stinky one, but odds are that this thing is as solid as a rock, wide as a Pringles can, and smells like a drain pipe. This will be the worst shit of your life.
The Dead Silent One
This is more than likely in your office building. The building architect neglected to install some sort of ventilation system in the part of the building that needed it the most. The room is a vacuum. There is no noise. Imagine yourself taking a seat in a claustrophobic stall, ready to push out your mid-afternoon recreational and you hear the door open. Your senses are so incredibly heightened and the room sounds like it has a Bose sound system pumping out every noise you could possibly not want to hear while trying to relax during your BM. The seat next to you drops down and then it begins. You hear every single fart, trickle and crackle of fecal matter passing from rectum to anus, then to toilet water and the following sigh of post-poop relief. You’ll hold back vomit, and that fart you’ve been holding in since 9:15. If you unleashed it into the bowl, it would sound like blowing a bassoon into a bedpan.
Just start using the family restroom from now on.
Respond
Brian McGannon
What do I love? I love happy hour, a good golf tan, and getting moderately drunk during dinner.
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Tip for you road trippers and traveling types: when looking to poop in unfamiliar territory, look for a hotel. Along the highway this should come in the form of a Hampton Inn, Holiday Inn Express, Drury Inn, etc. A decent chain. Walk in confidently and find the lobby restroom. It’s always very clean. Typically, only hotel guests are inside the hotel, and they poop in their rooms. So lucky you, you get a low traffic crapper that saves you from the disgust of that BP station down the road with the outdoor shitter that requires a key from the clerk.
Pro Tip: To avoid dumping at the significant others place, try and hold it until you can make it to a public area, preferably a restaurant. Pulled this move the other weekend. It takes some will power to hold back, but if you can make it you’re golden.
Bathroom in the Kathmandu airport is literally a portal to hell
That airports at the Istanbul airports defy all odds in that area of the world and are actually the nicest I’ve ever laid conquer to in an airport.
McGannon please explain to me why your first essay back from hiatus is litterally shit
I’m a little upset about a bad sexual episode last night.
The Da Vinci Code to defeating a dead silent restroom; just prior to the evacuation of your bowels, flush the toilet. The ensuing noise is the perfect cover up for most BM’s,you the shame of your coworkers hearing last night’s happy hour/2:00 am Whataburger exiting your body.
Bucees all damn day!
Easily it’s Jordan Hare stadium in Auburn, Alabama for me. Tiny ass stalls with one ply toilet paper that leaves you with the dreaded shit finger.
Am I the only one that misses the stadium troughs?
Bar dumps during peak business hours are one of the worst things that can happen to a person.
The only way the first time shitting at a significant other’s is worse is a post-binge porcelain splatter. There is no feasible way to contain this in under two minutes, it’s guaranteed to be noisy as (literally) shit, and it will reek. Worse, you’ll feel awful for the dilapidation you just dropped, and it will absolutely follow you back to the bed you must crawl back into clouded by morning breath, post-drunk sex and now, your hangover scent. You’ll try your best to cover it up and act like you didn’t just shit your guts out, but she’s already sent out a group text to minimally 3 friends. There is no morning sex. Breakfast is awkward.
Unless she’s a one-nighter. Then blow that shit up and leave immediately. The golf course is waiting.