I don't care how dirty it is. I don't care if they all pee on the seats. I don't even care about the smell.

I will use the men's bathroom over the women's any day.

Here's why: Because men are there to pee and leave. If you've never been in a women's restroom, especially in an office building, consider yourself blessed. Every fucking time I go in there, there's at least two or three insipid secretaries huddled around the sinks, blabbing all over the place about their clothes, their sex lives or lack thereof, what they bought today, and of course how blisteringly difficult the life of a secretary is. And I'm sitting in a stall, bareassed on a toilet, and I'm expected to pee like this?
All I want to hear in a bathroom is people peeing. Sure, sometimes there's the rather uncomfortable fart moments, or even the often disgusting encounters with raucous bowel movements. But those are expected once in a while. It's a bathroom.
My problem is that it's not a conference room, and especially, exceptionally, quite definitely NOT a therapist's office. But no. You walk into that girly bathroom, and you are suddenly stuck in girly hell. "Honestly, I don't know what he sees in her." "Can you believe she said that?" "Oh, I'm so sick of these migranes. Does anybody have a Valium?" "Yes, I got this cute outfit at so-and-so's..."

I do not like my intent to pee being overridden by an urge to barf. I've told them to shut up and get out several times, but the idea is that, since they can't waste their whole workday with soap-opera drivel, they have to infect my peeing time instead. So they won't stop. Eventually I will kill them all; for now I just use the men's whenever I can get away with it.

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