The horror of the Barnes and Noble bathroom

I was out running errands for most of the afternoon and found myself at a Barnes and Noble around dinnertime. As I was wandering through the store, it hit me–I had to pee. Really, really, pee.

I set my stack of books-to-purchase down and hit the bathroom. When I opened the door, I almost fainted from the sight and smell. The men’s room looked like the bathrooms at the (former) Tweeter Center, about six hours into Ozzfest. Dirt, water, and urine were all over the floor. Trying to ignore it all, I decided to use the stall.

And then it went from bad to worse. A stack of gay porn sat next to the toilet. A hardcover commemorative Playboy retrospective was on the baby changing table(because, well, whoever was in there before wasn’t totally gay, you know).

I made the decision to “hold it.” I was willing to pee in a bush outside, in front of a busy intersection, rather than use that bathroom.

So many obvious questions and observations about the porn enthusiast–I’ll whittle them down to the primary three:

-How dark is his life that he’s enjoying porn in a public restroom?
-How busy is his residence that needs to road trip for his onanism?
-What sort of animal must this person be to be enjoying porn in that bathroom? I can’t even imagine what a blacklight investigation would turn up in there.

Grossed out and having a hard time moving past this,


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