I am not a shy man nor am I a prude, but among the things that I find extremely annoying are men who insist on talking at the public urinal.
This morning in a restroom located in a bookstore I frequent I was minding my own "business" (if you know what I mean) when a young fellow stepped up beside me, unzipped, and said in a loud and, in my opinion, overly gregarious voice "How's it going?" An innocent enough question when asked at the produce stand, say, or bus stop, but which before the porcelain altar takes on a tone of near blasphemy.
"Not bad," I muttered, thankful that at least he had not inquired about how anything was hanging.
"Man!" he exclaimed, startling me and my bladder, "I never had to take a leak so bad!" The sound of his stream filled the air. "Ahhhhhh!" he moaned.
I focused my concentration on a feeble attempt to dilate my traumatized urethra.
"All done!" he announced as he backed away and started to zip up. He turned, looked at himself in the mirror over the sink, decided everything was perfect, and headed for the door. "Okay, man. You have a nice day," he crowed as he left, neglecting to wash his hands.
I carefully pulled up my own zipper, walked over to the sink, and was washing up when another man exited from one of the stalls and joined me.
"What a loudmouth," he said. I smiled wryly at him in the mirror. "Yep," I said.
We washed our hands in silence for a few seconds.
"Whew!" he exhaled loudly. "Man, did I have to take a dump!!!"