TO my Bathroom Buddy
I apologize if I came across as a bit unnerved or snappy, and that I didn't exchange any social niceties - I didn't even catch your name. I generally make every effort to be sociable and pleasant, and I am embarrassed that in this case, we did not even get to "hello."
I have to admit, I was slightly taken aback by your confusion regarding the basic tenets of men's bathroom etiquette. I don't mean to be rude, but urinal time is "me" time - I have a very busy schedule, and I prefer not to share those brief moments with others. I found it unusual, to say the least, that in an empty bathroom with well over ten urinals (with no barriers, mind you), you would choose to engage in your business in the adjacent urinal.
I love meeting new people, don't get me wrong, but in an empty restroom early in the morning (pre-coffee), having a swordfight is not high on my list of things to do. I'm kind of flattered that you enjoyed my presence to such an extent that you couldn't help but look over at me (subtlety is not your thing, I'm afraid) and stare, muttering things to yourself that I could not understand. Have you ever seen Ace Ventura: Pet Detective? You should give it a watch sometime.
As I washed my hands and departed, our brief engagement coming to a close, I was awed by the sight of your pale buttocks, reflecting the faint glow of the fluorescent bathroom lights about the room like a star, your pants and underwear resting down around your ankles as you relieved yourself - for a moment, I thought I had somehow been relocated to my old elementary school. Much like the serve-and-volley approach to tennis, this was a style I thought had gone the way of the buffalo. How wrong I was.
With all that said, my newfound friend, I hope you're having a pleasant day. Next time, though... Maybe you could give me a few urinals' worth of a buffer zone? Wonderful.