Bob has been having a mediocre evening following his mediocre work day at his mediocre job. The only thing he can hope for anymore is mediocre sex from let's say a mediocre girl. Mediocre defines Bob's life. But tonight he's having a beer at his favorite watering hole, and by favorite it's the place where his friends always want to go. And of course Bob is fifteen minutes early, so instead of sitting at a table alone by himself he orders a beer at the bar.
He doesn't want to look too poor to the moderately cute bartender who has a comparable face to the likes of Marilyn Monroe with Steve Buscemi eyes. He could have mediocre sex with her, but he won't try, he'll order his lager and wait for his friends.
Bob doesn't like to wait. He's sitting at the bar, which at this point is relatively empty on an early Friday night, and to pass the time he's scrolling through apps on his iPhone. Sadly, the most exciting part of Bob's life is having an iPhone even though 6/10 people he knows has one, he still feels privileged and "hip."
The fifteen minutes has passed and Bob has been trying to kill by stealing awkward glances at the Buscemi eyed, Marilyn Monroe bartender while finished his lager. Bob is the kind of guy who normally won't drink excessively so he double thinks about ordering a second beer. He ponders the idea and comes to the conclusion that if he orders the beer he will at least be able to have an eleven second conversation with the bartender.
He signals her down with a classic finger raise: "If it's no trouble to you, could I have another lager, I mean beer?"
The Buscemi eyed waitressed replied annoyed: "Uh, yeah. You had...?"
"Oh, just the Riptide's Fancy Lancy Prancer Lager. It's pretty good. I recommend it if you haven't had it."
"Well, normally only gay dudes order it because of the name, but that will be 4 bucks."
"Oh, good thing I'm not gay" Bob said with a lame half-hearted laugh to not come off homophobic or too weird. She thought he was weird, but came back with his beer and didn't buy into Bob's sincere smile.
What was Bob to do? Ten more minutes passed and his friends still haven't showed up. Maybe Steve and Zac were stuck in traffic? Impossible. Bob knew they walked to the bar, only three blocks away. How pathetic was this, his only friends stand him up on a friday night.
Fuck this, Bob thought. He had it. He finished the rest of his beer, thought about getting the weird eyed bartender's attention to order another but he better use the bathroom first. This particular bar was not kind to men. It had no stall toilet, so you couldn't poop, only stand in the trough style toilet and pee. The idea of whipping your dick out and pissing into a long tub was not something Bob wanted to do.
He rushed to the bathroom, the whole time thinking, praying, hoping, etc that no one would be in there. Alas! He was in great luck! He walked to the end of the trough, approached it, look at disgust and unzipped. Just as he thought things were about to change for him, the door opened. Bob couldn't back out now. His only hope was the guy was kind enough to no come too close. The overweight man untucked his stained white tee, whipped his nose with his finger and gracefully approached a little closer to Bob.
There was no way Bob was going to be able to piss at this point. The overweight man was only 1.5 feet away when the trough was 6 feet long. Bob couldn't understand why he was so close. Does he want to look at Bob's penis? Does he just not care about where he pisses like Bob does? Who knows?! Bob needs his space to pee and this man was making it any easier. While Bob just stood in place pretending to pee, the man was clearly having no problem. Bob could hear the stream of pee hit the porcelain. There was nothing else for Bob to do but to pretend he pissed, zip up, and go wash his hands.
Coincidentally the bigger man finished peeing just as Bob "finished." Bob gave the man a polite head nod not expecting anything in reply but the man said:
"Good evening little guy" in a really high pitched voice that didn't match what he looked like.
"Ah, yes it is a nice evening" Bob said rather surprised.
"I couldn't help but notice you were drinking Riptide's Fancy Lancey Prancer Lager. It is one of my ABSOLUTE favs!"
Immediately Bob rememebered what Steve Buscemi eyed waitress said Well, normally only gay dudes order it because of the name, but that will be 4 bucks." How could this be? Was this man really hitting on Bob in the bathroom? Sure, Bob dresses nice, he likes to read GQ and keeps good care of his body, but he doesn't come off as gay.
Bob couldn't only think of one thing to say: "Oh sorry, I'm not gay. I hope I didn't give you the wrong impression. I didn't really know gay guys drank that beer."
The man was disgusted by the way Bob said that. He was trying to hit on Bob, just making small talk in the bathroom. Yet he said: "Oh sure, just because you dress nice doesn't mean I want to suck you off. Fucking ignorance."
"Uh, um, yeah..." and Bob just walked out the bathroom too quickly and almost walked into the one bartender he wished to avoid, "Buscemi eyes." He quickly mumbled a sorry and saw that his friends made it. They laughed Bob telling him he almost ran over that bartender and proceeded to verbally make fun of the waitress for being so peculiar. Bob could never tell them that he thought she was somehow attractive to him. And before he could forget the bathroom experience, Zac said:
"How was the bathroom? You were in there for awhile? You didn't go gay on us and suck of some dude?"
"Oh, ha. Ha. Yeah, right..."
Bob really hates his friends almost as much as he hates using public bathrooms.
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