OK, same day as before (27 Nov, France v Wales). Pub is insanely busy, can't move without being sandwiched between five other people. I've been in mauls that were easier to get through.
So, back in the gents. Now, in exceedingly busy pubs, with no room to sit or even stand, each Man eventually faces a choice. "What do I do with my drink while going for a leak?". When there is no room to put your glass down (seriously, it was that busy), my choice has always been either (a) neck it and get one on the way back (b) leave it with a mate. There are others, noting the length of the queue, who take the drink with them. Fair call I say. That queue was long. But I've never been one to Cross The Threshold - taking a beer into the Gents. Kath tells me a lot of girls take drinks into the Ladies - with the excuse "we don't want our drink spiked". Is that a fair trade? Guaranteed filth of the toilets versus one in a thousand chance of a drink spiking?
Anyway, those guys who actually take their drinks into the Gents are faced with another challenge - physics and anatomy. What to do with your beer (nearly everyone drinks beer, lager or cider in Wales, at least on match-day) whilst actually undoing your flys and taking out the old-fella?
Using the window sill, where applicable, seems to be the least revolting alternative.
Resting the beer on the little shelf on top of the urinal (or on some other resting place) seems another popular choice.
There are some surprising dexterous and perhaps flexible gentlemen who can hold a beer and manage the mechanics in one hand - pint glass in one, and flys, underpants, wedding tackle all deftly manipulated with the other hand on both the extract, urinate and replace operations. So to speak.
On this day I saw two new options that I would never have thought of or tried to replicate.
The first was a guy who held a two-thirds full pint glass (568mL) under his chin whilst doing the business. Amazing. Uncomfortable but amazing.
But the second guy, oh my fucking god. He stood next to me. He looked Shocked - he'd made it to the urinal without finishing his beer! What to do, what to do? He looked left, he looked right. He looked behind himself. He looked up, vainly searching for a little shelf. Alas, this urinal at Dempseys was the "suspended trough" type, no shelves.
So he ...put
it
on
the
floor
between
his
leg
and
the
next
guy's.
Aaaaaaaarrrrgghh! Ewwwwwwwww! Ever see a men's room floor underneath a trough? Spray, splashback, trickle, dribble, poor aim - call it what you want. This guy opted for a communal urine-spray shandy rather than leave his beer behind.
That was the most disgusting thing I have seen in a long time. Hope he washed his hands.
And his beer.
No comments:
Post a Comment