Stall mystery

Something rather disturbing has just happened to me, and I'm trying to sort things out in my head by putting thought to paper. You'll have to forgive me if my writing appears incoherent. The events of the afternoon have shaken me up a little, and I'm doing the best I can to make sense of it all. I must warn you that this post is not for the squeamish, so anything you read beyond this line will be at your own discretion.

I was answering nature's call this afternon (the first one, not the second) when I notice the guy in the stall next to me start doing a little shake. This is, of course, no big deal because "the shake" is the traditional flourish with which most of us men finish our routines. In fact, I'm inclined to believe that this odd little jig is some sort of evolutionarily favorable mechanism that has helped our ancestors elude predators like the wooly mamoth and the tyranosaurus rex. "The shake" has never caused me to bat an eye, but what this gentleman proceeded to do next caught me by surprise, and I almost had to go home for a new shirt.

Midway through his shake, the man started making noises that sounded like "dwaaaaannnnng bwannnnng dwounnnnng", but with more reverb and nasal pressure. I don't really know how to describe this sound more accurately beyond saying that it resembled a "springy" sound, not unlike something you'd hear on a Saturday morning cartoon (think Warner Brothers). When I heard these odd noises, I came close to emitting some sounds of my own--though mine would have been more easily decipherable, something along the lines of "what the ****, man?". Thankfully, I managed to avoid saying anything to avoid further awkwardness and merely gave the man a quick glance to make sure he was alright. For all I know, the poor fellow might have relieved himself too quickly and the ensuing vacuum in his bladder caused by such a rapid expulsion may have caused his lower body to implode. Stranger things have happened, and I wanted to give the man as much benefit of the doubt as I could reasonably afford.

To my surprise, I saw no sign of a medical emergency. Instead, the gentleman looked me straight in the eye and gave me a firm but quick nod. This gestured frightened me a great deal because now I wasn't sure if I had inadvertently been dragged into some type of duel. Crazy thoughts ran through my head: perhaps this man was brought up in a very territorial culture, and by merely standing in the stall next to him, I had challenged his position in the world, and now I was obligated to engage in a type of...sword fight (pardon the imagery) with him. Talk about a bad way to finish off an afternoon.

Thankfully, the man showed no obvious sign of anger or aggression and casually walked to the sink to finish up. But in hindsight, this whole thing could have turned out to be a lot uglier than it did. Perhaps next time, I will follow the cardinal rule of the men's room, and use the toilet instead of the urinal when the adjacent stall is occupied.


Your Favorite Swordsman