…I ran across Constant Reader Double-Plus-Ungood’s commentary on male urinal etiquette. I contest none of his rules (save for the fact that it is in fact permitted to stare straight ahead, eyes focused on a spot of the wall directly in front of you), but it’s bemusing to realize that nobody ever told me them, or even implied them; they were just… there. It’s what you do when you go*.
Makes you wonder what else we’ve got programmed into our heads; guess we’ll find out when the Zeta Reticulans land and start making us build giant robot armadas…
Moe
*Yup, folks, this is precisely the high-class blogging that you’ve come to expect from the staff here at Obsidian Wings. Gimme a break, I have a barbeque to go to today.
Moe: “fact that it is in fact permitted to stare straight ahead”
almost right: stare straight ahead or watch your own water flow.
Rigid rule (no pun): your head and eyes may not stray more than 10 degrees from due north, on pain (perhaps literally) of being viewed as gay – which is true whether straight or gay. This is the same reason for the A vs C rule.
Straights can’t handle being thought of as gays, and gays can’t handle the potential outcomes of being accused of cruising or unauthorized looking (whether they are out or not) – since it is far more likely to be a negative rather than positive outcome.
It is the fear of homosexuality accusations that molds this robot behavior on both sides. It is not as though parents are explaining these rules either. The power of peer culture is so strong on young men that everyone gets it almost instinctively.
Strangely, Europeans (like in so many other things) have almost no hangups in this area.
well Moe, now that you’ve opened this can of worms 🙂
as a gay man, i have noticed that straight guys (or are those just gay guys with wedding rings?) often check out others, not the gay guys. Their favorite trick is to wait until they turn to leave and then check you out and look down as they leave. For what it’s worth my theory is the reason gay guys don’t do that is because we have seen a bunch in person and so our curiosity has been satisfied. Or for those who do that junk, if a gay man wanted action he wouldn’t be at a cinema or sports event etc., he’d be at the Beverly Hills Park with George Michael.
“well Moe, now that you’ve opened this can of worms :)”
Hey, you gotta admit that it’s a change of pace.
Anyway, speaking as a straight guy I’d like to make it known here that the reason why I stare at the wall while peeing is because, frankly, even if I wasn’t straight urolagia* would still do absolutely nothing for me. I’d be doing the same if I was using a bathroom in mixed company, in other words.
Moe
*Word of the day, folks. Use it in a sentence! Amaze your friends! Don’t tell ’em where you heard it first!
And what about elevators? Used to be, you stepped in, moved as far back as possible, then face the doors. When the doors open, people exit, then new people enter. Is it only here in a college town where elevator etiquette has disintegrated? Is there still somewhere where elevator morals have not been undermined?
On that topic. . easy, fun way to mess with peoples’ heads (which I submit is a fnord way to enlighten them). . always face the back when you get on elevators.
And what about elevators?
I can honestly say that I can’t recall ever having urinated in an elevator. But if I ever had, it’d be eyes front.
When you urinate in an elevator, you face into the corner. So it doesn’t matter where you are looking.
What, were you raised by wolves?
Which way do wolves face when they urinate in elevators?
And what about elevators?
Oh, don’t get me started. The first two sets of people up against the wall when the Revolution comes are:
1. People who charge onto the elevator the second the doors open, knocking into everyone getting off; and
2. People who sloooooooooowly saunter off the elevator chatting with each other, while the doors close behind them and the elevator leaves.
was so hoping that the men of ObWi might use the urinal thread to open up a bit and maybe do some observing and reflecting but i see loads of diversion here, funny but indicative. men seem to be getting more paranoid in public toilets and the dividers keep getting bigger. Isn’t it funny that 10 years ago a man would never choose the stall over a urinal no matter how crowded and now they sometimes even sit a seat apart from a guy friend at the movies? why so uptight? is the american male feeling much more insecure over his masculinity? (i know, sounds like carrie bradshaw at the Mac).
I fail to see how I could ‘open up’ more than admitting that I know what the word ‘urolagia’ means.
Hell, even I had to look up what urolagia means…then again I always assume such behavior only really exists in Woody Allen’s mind, but I’m not the kind of person others (read: those I’m not sleeping with) tell their darkest sexual fantasies to normally…I involuntarily crinkle my nose when someone reveals too much information and that generally stops said confessor in their tracks…(having been raised in the MidWest by an Evangelical family will do that to you).
All this reminds me of the Jerry Seinfeld joke about how in public people in a line will give you more space than normal when you’re peeing at a urninal or using the ATM machine…the punchline was something like “maybe it has something to do with taking valuables out of your pants”
moe, that comment was certainly not directed your way. in the thread before that, i actually was feeling a bit of solidarity with you. my mistake! i’ll drop the conciliatory tone and move toward the snark.
… male urinal etiquette.
Department of Redundancy Department.
and now they sometimes even sit a seat apart from a guy friend at the movies?
In my case, this has nothing to do with straightness or non-straightness and everything to do with the fact that I’m big – if I sit next to someone, I’m cramped throughout the movie. (I had the dubious fortune of seeing the new Harry Potter movie the weekend it opened, in a packed theater – and with an older woman next to me who couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds, and an eight-year-old on the other side, I still felt pinned in.)