Reference http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzO1mCAVyMw before reading.
I found myself in an interesting situation at about 7:00 PM yesterday, August 16... Let me begin.
My new wife and I were on the way home from our Cozumel honeymoon. Everything was going just fine. We made it the airport with time to spare, I met a retired Firefighter from Kansas in the American Airlines check-in line and had a nice conversation with him to make the time pass a little faster. Our flight boarded on time, they showed an episode of "The Office" that I had never seen before and we landed in Dallas/Ft. Worth early. Immigration and Customs paperwork correctly filled out, we then re-checked our bags, breezed through security, shuffled across the terminal to gate C-11, where our next flight would be boarding from, and even had enough time to grab a bite to eat before our flight to Washington D.C. We had finished eating a light dinner from Wendy's during which I drank roughly 32oz. of bottled water (dehydration is a travelers worst enemy). This, my friends, is were the situation gets hairy.
Being that I am 6'2", 255lbs, I try to avoid using airplane bathrooms. In the past I have crossed the Atlantic 4 times and never used the airplane's bathroom once. I was not going to tarnish my sterling record on a measly flight from DFW to IAD. I located the appropriate facility and began reviewing "Male Restroom Etiquette" protocol in my head. I rounded the corner and began the process of elimination in my search for the best urinal. There were 9 regular urinals and 1 urinal mounted several inches lower. Wanting to maintain the "one urinal buffer zone" I found myself in this predicament.The only urinal that I could use and not violate the "one urinal buffer zone" was, indeed, the urinal mounted lower on the wall. Some readers may be wondering "What is the problem?" I have to agree, my first instinct was to use the lower urinal and been done with it, finish my business and get the hell out. As I took a step toward the urinal of stunted growth I began pondering the logic behind placing a urinal several inches lower than the rest. Several reasons came to mind. Children, little people, I don't know, maybe even generously endowed specimens. It was then I began to question my choice in the urination process. I thought to myself, "Here I am, all 6'2" 255lbs. of me, getting ready to use a urinal with an obviously specific demographic of which I definitively do not belong to." Then I asked myself the inevitable question, "What if?". What if a loving father brings a child in dire need into the restroom, for the child using a "big boy potty" would be a highpoint in the day, for the father, one more victory in the dirty diaper war. What if a little person, just trying to live his life, comes into that restroom hoping to find a lowered urinal. A lowered urinal! One small justice ( no pun intended, teehee) in a world ripe with injustice. Both of these noble persons may at anytime round the same corner I did and be elated to see the prized "low urinal", then have their elation obliterated by the looming shadow of the "six-foot-two, two-hundred-fifty-five-pound meanie". The thought of those brave souls stopped me in my tracks.
It was then I was faced with a daunting decision. Break the man-law that is the "one urinal buffer zone" and use a regular size urinal; or remain a man in the eyes of my peeing peers, maintain the hallowed no-mans-land by whizzing in the low urinal, thus trouncing the hopes of any who are physically restrained to the nether regions of the bathroom. I began to sweat.
I found myself in an interesting situation at about 7:00 PM yesterday, August 16... Let me begin.
My new wife and I were on the way home from our Cozumel honeymoon. Everything was going just fine. We made it the airport with time to spare, I met a retired Firefighter from Kansas in the American Airlines check-in line and had a nice conversation with him to make the time pass a little faster. Our flight boarded on time, they showed an episode of "The Office" that I had never seen before and we landed in Dallas/Ft. Worth early. Immigration and Customs paperwork correctly filled out, we then re-checked our bags, breezed through security, shuffled across the terminal to gate C-11, where our next flight would be boarding from, and even had enough time to grab a bite to eat before our flight to Washington D.C. We had finished eating a light dinner from Wendy's during which I drank roughly 32oz. of bottled water (dehydration is a travelers worst enemy). This, my friends, is were the situation gets hairy.
Being that I am 6'2", 255lbs, I try to avoid using airplane bathrooms. In the past I have crossed the Atlantic 4 times and never used the airplane's bathroom once. I was not going to tarnish my sterling record on a measly flight from DFW to IAD. I located the appropriate facility and began reviewing "Male Restroom Etiquette" protocol in my head. I rounded the corner and began the process of elimination in my search for the best urinal. There were 9 regular urinals and 1 urinal mounted several inches lower. Wanting to maintain the "one urinal buffer zone" I found myself in this predicament.The only urinal that I could use and not violate the "one urinal buffer zone" was, indeed, the urinal mounted lower on the wall. Some readers may be wondering "What is the problem?" I have to agree, my first instinct was to use the lower urinal and been done with it, finish my business and get the hell out. As I took a step toward the urinal of stunted growth I began pondering the logic behind placing a urinal several inches lower than the rest. Several reasons came to mind. Children, little people, I don't know, maybe even generously endowed specimens. It was then I began to question my choice in the urination process. I thought to myself, "Here I am, all 6'2" 255lbs. of me, getting ready to use a urinal with an obviously specific demographic of which I definitively do not belong to." Then I asked myself the inevitable question, "What if?". What if a loving father brings a child in dire need into the restroom, for the child using a "big boy potty" would be a highpoint in the day, for the father, one more victory in the dirty diaper war. What if a little person, just trying to live his life, comes into that restroom hoping to find a lowered urinal. A lowered urinal! One small justice ( no pun intended, teehee) in a world ripe with injustice. Both of these noble persons may at anytime round the same corner I did and be elated to see the prized "low urinal", then have their elation obliterated by the looming shadow of the "six-foot-two, two-hundred-fifty-five-pound meanie". The thought of those brave souls stopped me in my tracks.
It was then I was faced with a daunting decision. Break the man-law that is the "one urinal buffer zone" and use a regular size urinal; or remain a man in the eyes of my peeing peers, maintain the hallowed no-mans-land by whizzing in the low urinal, thus trouncing the hopes of any who are physically restrained to the nether regions of the bathroom. I began to sweat.
