I'm Just Going To Go Ahead And Talk About Peeing.

Maybe it's a guy thing. Maybe it's just me.

But I've noticed that all kinds of weird, strange things happen in the guy's toilets, and that's not even considering the sex, drugs and not-so-subtle peering over the shoulder of every guy in the place, just "checking" their normalcy against other fellers, um, fellers.

There's Pee Buddies, for one. When your consumption to expulsion ratio becomes perfectly timed to a complete strangers, and you wind up meeting, each time you go take a leak, next to each other. There is of course the obligatory downwards drop of the head, the subtle, soft "Hey." And then it's time to stare forward or down, trying hard not to look, because you know full well, he's doing exactly the same thing. And it gets hard, because sometimes all you want to do is play with the cigarette butts that are lying in the drain, you want to be able to move those things aaallll the way to the bottom, but you can't. He'll look at you funny.

There's the sudden, ass-clenching fear that grips your bowels in an icy embrace when you realise that, instead of the couple of slices of loo paper you thought you'd have after a number two, you've been tricked into having a tiny scrap of bog roll cling for dear life to the cardboard tube, leaving a shredded piece of pulp no bigger than a matchbox to wipe with.

There's stage fright. Para-urisis, it's called, according to Men's Health magazine. (Those bastards write articles on EVERYTHING)
The feeling of really really really needing to wring out your kidneys, rushing to that pear-shaped piece of porcelain heaven, unzipping, and then...

Fukkall.

Nothing.

You push, you strain, you nearly pop a poep-string trying to get things flowing, and your bladder reckons "Noooit. Piss off. I'm kipping." It can be kinda embarrassing at times too; busy bathrooms, loads of gents waiting in line, you step up to bat and nothing. What can you do? A wry shake of the head, and even wryer shake of the tottie, and down you step. The other guys pointedly saying nothing, but inside they're all going "Yup. I know how he feels. Poor bastard."

But there is a golden ray of sunlight. That little something that makes it all okay. There comes a moment in a man's life when you're standing there, be it in a bar, a club or even at home, when it happens...

The shudder.

It usually creeps up on you, about halfway through the job, it tickles the nape of your neck, slowly works it's way down your spine like a set of long fingernails gently scraping the skin, until suddenly, BAM! You can remain standing, but you can't remain still. It starts off slow, and builds until your entire frame just shivers, and suddenly aiming becomes a whole new ball game. So hard to explain, and yet so deeply, deeply satisfying.

There are loads more weird and wonderful things that happen in the dank, dark depths of the male lavatory, but I think I've said enough already. I'm in danger of getting kicked out the Mens Club.

Also, in jotting down these little observances, I had a thought. Something I must ask: When girls go to the toilet together, I'm pretty sure they talk a helluva lot whilst drowning the bad fairies. Is this because, if they don't cover it with conversation, they're afraid of getting heard?

Or do you just like to talk?