Trapped in the (Water) Closet

So, part of yesterday's weirdness. I stop at the local big box discount shopping mart to grab some groceries and things before heading properly home yesterday. Before running around to grab 50 cent tangelos and supplies for finishing my Halloween costume, I ducked into the mens room for a "furtive grab" and tinkle. The handicapped stall was occupied as was one of the two, urinals, but...desperate times etc etc. So, overlooking my usual uneasiness about peeing next to a total stranger, I stepped up and started to go. Now...I should've been patient, talked myself down and waited. Because just as I was stepping up, it became clear to me that the guy using the urinal was leaning over it, resting his forearms against the wall and his head against his forearms. That alone should've told me to back off and just wait...bladder discomfort be damned. As I stepped up, he leaned back upright, turned toward me and started saying something about being old and having to hold onto it. I had no idea wtf he was talking about, because he very obviously hadn't been holding onto anything prior...unless, like G/C Lionel Mandrake in Dr. Strangelove he meant his precious bodily fluids. I just muttered something non-comittal, look at the tile and think of England. He proceeds to rest his forearms atop the divider and rests his chin on them and starts talking to me about his "prostrate" problems. I look over at him, black black black dyed hair and pencil thin mustache...just a hint of a perm to the hair. At that moment I want to be anywhere else. He goes on about his condition. About his swelling, but no cancer, and a rather detailed description of the procedure he had that alleviates the swelling problem...I finished up as quick as I could, washed and dried my hands and got the hell outta there.

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Am finishing up my Halloween costume today (and this isn't as totally unrelated as it seems.) I'm going as Larry Craig and his bathroom stall.