Stalling

Bathroom stalls.

The men's bathroom, for the uninitiated, is a place in our culture where the essence of the masculine is simply and efficiently distilled down to its core characteristics. I've stood outside the women's bathroom, waiting for women I've known. In past lives, I've even been employed to clean and maintain restroom facilities, affording me a behind-the-curtain look at the defining features of both restrooms. Even when unoccupied, the women's bathroom, comparatively, is a warm and affectionate place. I've observed, with curiosity, that it isn't altogether uncommon to see two women enter as strangers but come out chatting like birds descending from a telephone wire. You can make friends in the women's restroom. There's understanding, there-- a mutual interest. It's a place where society has told women where they can go and feel safe long enough to relieve themselves, and that's a comfort in times such as these.

The men's restroom, in contrast, is stoic. Organized. It operates more like a factory than a community meeting center. Even at the busiest of times, there is an unspoken expectation in the men's restroom: no eye contact, no talking. No laughter, no loitering. No one ever had to tell me these rules when I was growing up-- you learn simply by going, and falling neatly into the orderly pace and proceedings of the men's restroom that you assume as naturally as salmon know to swim upstream. 

It may be unfeeling, but it is not uncaring. The unspoken secret of the men's restroom is not that this silence and stoicism is maintained because your fellow man does not care what you look like, what you have to say, or what you may need in the restroom that day. The constant baseline of silence is, rather, a courtesy extended upon all who enter. To disturb the quiet with your own personal conversation would be presumptuous of others' desire for secrecy and solemnity. To make eye contact and engage in polite pleasantries would be an unfair and impolite infringement of that other man's desire for solitude in this place of relief. After all, it is called the 'rest' room. Surely it was a man who named it so.

I should quickly note that there are exceptions. But, as they say, the exception proves the rule. If you arrive in the restroom and there is a pair engaged in conversation-- typically while washing hands or standing at a urinal-- the correct response is to pretend it is not happening. Deftly maneuver around the speaking pair, locate your utility of choice, and go about your restroom activity as planned. If two men are catching up, the likeliest reason they've decided to do so, here, rather than out there is simply because they happened to bump into each other while in here. There's a good chance they haven't seen or spoken to each other in many years. You have nothing to do with it. Everyone else should act accordingly.

But, these freak occurrences set aside, there is a kind of 'love language' of the men's restroom that maybe utterly lost on first-time visitors. Every squeaky shoe, every grunt-- every flatulent outburst or even the splash of urine striking the toilet water tells a tale. Every sound you produce in the restroom reveals something about yourself to everyone else who operates in silence. They do hear you, and they are gathering data and, yes, even reaching conclusions. 

I guess I'll be that age, someday, too. Better be prepared for that.

Sounds like we're dealing with some constipation in stall 3. Poor fella. 

Forgot to put his phone on silent. He'll know better next time.

Sounds like a clogged toilet in stall six. Why don't they let us have plungers in this place? That guy could have it operating again right away, instead we have to wait for an attendant.

We got a toe-tapper. Must be nervous about something. Calm down, buddy.

Poor guy's in pain. I'll send him my energy.

Things like that.

A scenario: you are sitting in a stall, which affords you some level of anonymity and privacy-- but much can be gleaned about you by others passing by the stall. Are you producing a lot of noise in the stall? If so, you are in an urgent situation and should be afforded some space and grace while you work things out. If you are silent, things are proceeding normally-- and traditional rules of engagement apply. Another man enters and occupies a stall beside you. The choice of stall is dependent on: how many total stalls there are in the facility, what the condition of each stall is at a glance (unflushed material, spillage, etc.), the condition of the stall door (broken handle, missing coat hook, etc.), and its proximity to whoever already occupies a toilet (it is polite to give ample space around occupied stalls, if feasible.) In this case, for one reason or another, you must each occupy a stall right beside each other. This is sub-optimal, but still fine. 

Spoiler alert: everything is sub-optimal, but still fine (until it is not). 

You hear them drop drawers and sit. What passes is a moment of stillness as the initial wave of necessary bodily functions pass. This is the reason why you are gathered here, after all. It is unpleasant, but it is a fact of life. No reason to call undue attention to it, but it is completely unavoidable all the same. Best to just get it over with, and move on.

Then proceeds a grace period. You have already finished - but you are awaiting the proper cue before you decide whether or not it is proper for you to begin your departure. The rule is that if it is at all avoidable, you must avoid both of you being out of the stall, washing your hands and jockeying for paper towels at the same time. You must attempt to stagger your departure of the stall and restroom so that there is no overlap between each of your turn at the sink. But in order to plan this accordingly, you need to deduce whether or not the newcomer is here for a long-haul, or a short-stay.

From their perspective, they, too, are awaiting the proper cue from you. If everything is normal, and they are not in an urgent rush, once they have finished they will sit and allow you the proper amount of time to depart, if you are inclined to do so. After all, you were here first. When all else is the equal, it is your turn to get up and depart the restroom. But the newcomer may likewise be trying to deduce if you are there for a long-haul, or short-stay. So, what happens next is crucial, and you must listen. This is why silence is essential to the men's bathroom experience because we take all ages-- and some have harder hearing than others. When in the stall, the one who was there first must make an 'audible'-- if they are ready to depart, they must begin to roll out toilet paper out of the dispenser. 

If the newcomer hears you dispensing toilet paper, they know to wait. There, they will sit until you have completely finished the cleaning phase of your visit. If you are a newcomer to this restroom-- a 'test flush' may be helpful, to give you an understanding of the strength and velocity of the toilet's flushing ability. If it is a weak flush, you must flush regularly and often. If it is a powerful flush, you must flush as little as possible - it is wasteful, and modern industrial toilets are noisy. They are an admirable feat of toilet engineering, but the volume of the noise can mask the sound of other men entering the restroom which may cause unnecessary overlap at the faucets if not properly accounted for. Be wary!

The newcomer will wait until the final flush and the sound of your pants being fastened begins. At this point, they may begin their own cleaning ritual, guided by their careful attention to your test flushes and already planning the next phase of their journey based on your exploratory data findings. In a perfect world, by the time you have washed up at the sink and are drying your hands, the newcomer is pulling up their pants and preparing to step out into the bathroom just as you exit. 

If, however, someone is in for a long-haul-- you must make no move, or make no sound for a very specific period of time to properly communicate to the other stall-mate that they are free to leave any time they wish without fear that you will suddenly rush to clean yourself up and both be at the faucets, washing your hands, at the same time. This would be a faux-pas. 

In the silent bathroom language, you can come to learn quite a bit about the person sitting beside you. You can get a sense, just from their presence in the stall, the kind of day they are having. Do they feel light and unburdened? Is their breath coming out briskly - easily - with a kind of zeal for life that you should envy and deign to emulate yourself? Or, is there a 'heaviness' felt in the stall beside you? A deep, worrisome weight in the sound of their heaving sighs you can hear in-between bathroom cues? Do you get the sense that they have some personal and debilitating struggle they are now currently embroiled within-- facing the stresses of life, there, beside you, in the stall that day?

The best help we, their temporary companion can provide, is silent, patient waiting. Extend them the courtesy of an option to stay a while, and have a moment of quiet contemplation, hidden away from life's slings and arrows for a while-- and even if it's his turn to leave, but you can 'feel' that he may need an extra cycle before beginning his departure, offer (silently) to leave first by putting out an inquiring tug upon your toilet paper roll, and wait patiently to see if he rushes to clean up and take his place in the exit queue. If he makes no such motion - you are free to go, and I'm sure he's in the stall, smiling gently, saying a quiet ' thank you,' for giving him an extra moment of quiet.

You may even see his hand come up under the bottom of the stall. If this happens, you are free to take it, and quietly hold hands together for a moment in silent, comforting reflection. It is good to know that, here, in the men's restroom, we can find solidarity together in quiet 'rest'. We may be competitors out there, but in here-- we are all men.

Just remember to wash your hands before you leave.