men's room ritual of ridiculousness
Keep your eyes forward and no grunting whilst you piss please
I’m mystified every time I’m in a public men’s room. People wash their hands after using the urinal. I don’t quite get the logic.
Let’s look at the facts shall we? In a washroom with urinals, aside from opening a door, what do you touch? Belt. Top button. Zipper. Underpants. Wang.
When finished, things move in reverse: Wang. Underpants. Zipper.
Nothing here is dirty.
The wang part has only been in a pair of fresh, comforting cotton boxer briefs.
They are clean. The wang is essentially clean.
Oh sure, it has been exposed to the poo particles within the ecosystem of the gitch. But the toxic density of a few kilo tonnes of farts on a wang is marginal as far as I can imagine.
So the process of Belt. Top button. Zipper. Underpants. Wang. Reverse
That process is clean.
Or at least it is as far as I am concerned.
This leads to a slightly more disturbing question: If they’re so careful washing their hands after holding their wangs, what else did they get up to down there?
Urinal splashback happens and is a good reason to wash hands.
Long time ago I suffered a kidney stone. I had no idea what was causing me to black out when trying to urinate, so I went to my doctor. I explained that I was wanting to urinate but having difficulty. He asked that I go give a urine sample, then return to the exam room. I didn't think I could pee but agreed to try.
I tried to pee and ended up filling the little cup with blood. After placing the cup where directed I returned to the exam room. After some minutes the doctor came back and asked why I hadn't told that I was bleeding. I didn't tell, because this was the first instance. He said it was obvious I had a kidney stone, gave me a little square of gauze and told me to drink lots of water, then pee through the gauze to capture the stone for causal analytics.
At home I drank water as directed, Soon I felt the need to go along with some intense pain. I sat down, afraid that I would black out again. The stone was apparently moving, causing extreme discomfort. Finally, it passed with such pain I did not even think about the gauze. I looked in the bowl, thinking I could retrieve the stone, but there was nothing but pale urine.
At the follow up appointment the doctor asked for the stone. I said that I had looked for it but did not find it. Doctor said I would not have found it because it was microscopic. No, I argued, I was pretty sure it was at least the size of a grapefruit!
(PS: Thankfully I have never had another stone. But I was guilty of having some kidney stone fun for a while after that. When needing to stand shoulder-to-shoulder in a crowded restroom and pee, I'd discretely take a coin out of my pocket and whack the urinal a couple of times halfway through. Ping! Ping! Always the chap next to me would throw a quizzical glance my way, and I'd complain about damn kidney stones.)