I've become a stall man.

Yes, it's true. I can't take it any more.

I always thought stall guys were kind of weird, and all sorts of things ran through my head when I encountered one. Maybe they were homophobic, I thought, or had some sort of catheter bag to empty. Maybe they had stage fright, or were embarrassed by their tiny weenie. Perhaps it was just the opposite, and they were embarrased by their freakishly large one. I really had no idea.

Today, I am here to tell you that I've joined their ranks. I have converted, and not because of any of the aforementioned reasons. The reason I converted is simply this:


That is a top down view of every urinal at every place I've ever worked.

Usually, they look like this by about 9am, and get progressively worse as the day goes on. It starts out at 8am as a spray mist, turns into a small puddle by 9, then turns into a sticky puddle from noon on. After that, you could probably scrape it up with a putty knife.

I simply refuse to stand in it any longer.

So I've become a stall man. I don't know which particular set of slobs is doing this to every urinal station, but I am pretty sure that there are only a few ways it could happen:

1. Gross obesity and absolutely zero control over where your urethra is currently pointing, or

2. Intentionally spraying piss like a horny alley cat marking his territory.

The problem in the first case is twofold - one, being too fat to actually see your own member and two, the ballistics of the thing, which determines how much piss lands on the floor. I suck at math and can't seem to actually generate a working peequation, so if there are any mathematicians reading this, feel free to help me out:

As far as I can tell, the variables are as follows:

Let R=relative stream strength (condition of prostate+bladder level+amount of coffee and/or mountain dew consumed)

Let X=dribble/shake

Let Z=distance from urinal

Let P= well, Pee

Somewhere therein lies the answer. But many math problems can be solved with geometry as well, and a diagram often works wonders. Being more visually oriented, I feel the peequation can be illustrated more clearly with a simple drawing:



So that takes care of possibility number one. As for possibility number two, (i.e., the alley cat theory) the only other conceivable way this amount of piss could end up on the floor is if he put his thumb over the end like he's spraying something with a garden hose. I have yet to actually witness that, but give it time. I've seen just about everything else.

So long story short, I now piss in the stall where it's dry and I don't stick to the floor. I'm sure there are some people who think I'm ashamed of my tiny weenie (that's besides the point), but at least I no longer feel compelled to burn my shoes.

Goddammit people. AIM for chrissakes. It's not that difficult. And if you're too fat to get close enough, dangle your dongle in a coffee cup and then dump it or something. Jesus.