Overheard in the men’s room

“Hey.”

(Please don’t talk to me while I’m trying to pee.) “Um, hey.”

“What’s up?”

(Ew.) “Nothing.”

“Didja see the game?”

(Didja see that we’re two strangers standing in the men’s room talking when we shouldn’t be?) “No.”

“Christ, what a second half. It was amazing. Shoulda seen it.”

(Please please stop talking to me.) “Yeah.”

“By the way, that’s the one with the broken handle. You gotta hold it up for a few seconds, then down.”

(Stop looking at my toilet. Stop looking over here.) “Thanks. Not quite to that point yet.”

“Yeah, you gotta hold it up. Otherwise, the damn thing won’t flush. I told those guys to fix it. The middle one, I said, the middle one.”

(Why are we still talking? This is the longest piss ever.) “Hmph, maintenance.”

“Those lazy fucks. Am I right?”

(You are all kinds of wrong.) “Oh, yeah.”

“By the way, didja see the new girl?”

(Don’t like where this is going.) “Uh, no. I mean, I don’t think so.”

“Great smile. And by ‘smile,’ I mean ‘rack.’ ”

(Classy.) “Nice.”

“She’s totally into me. I can tell.”

(She’s just not that into you.) “Oh, yeah?”

“Mmm-hmm. Just gotta make my move.”

(Move on over to a stall.) “Yeah.”

“Damn. Too much coffee.”

(Too much bathroom drama.) “Right.”

“Yeah, that’s it, hold up the handle, then— yeah, that’s it.”

(I know how to flush a toilet.) “Thanks.”

“You got it, man. Hey…”

(Why are you still talking?) “Yes?”

“Take it easy.”

(Stupid slow hand dryer.) “What?”

“I said, take it easy.”

(Good God.) “You, too.”