This is the most famous urinal to ever exist. In 1917 it was submitted to a prestigious art exhibit by Richard Mutt under the title “Fountain.” It is a commercial urinal, bought from a plumbing store, turned on its side and then signed and dated. There’s a lot of differing opinions about “Fountain.” Some think it’s the crowning jewel of Dadaism, a sort of anti-art masterpiece, while others think it’s meaningless and stupid. Regardless, there is one solid truth to “Fountain”: Richard Mutt does not actually exist.
“Fountain” is the work of Marcel Duchamp, an iconic artist, inventor, and chess grandmaster. Marcel Duchamp has one of the most impressive resumés of the 1910s. He was someone who could put his name anywhere and everywhere, and yet, when presented with a urinal, Duchamp dropped his identity and chose to use a pseudonym. This is not a coincidence.
Stories I’ve heard of the women’s restroom feel like descriptions of the Garden of Eden. An oasis in any grimy bar. Places for safety, camaraderie, and sharing. Conversely, the men’s restroom is bleak. You do not share in the men’s restroom. You do not even have things to share in the first place. You are here to empty your bladder. You are here to satisfy an animalistic instinct and that is all. There are rules here, and this is the first one. When you see the urinals, you briefly drop everything that makes you human. That includes your name.
RULE 1: DON’T ASK MY NAME
Welcome to Urinal Etiquette, the unwritten rules of peeing as a man. I’ll be your host. First, a tour of the facility:
We have the sinks in the bottom left. Those are for washing your hands. The toilets are in the top right. Those are for shitting in. Finally we have the urinals. Those are for peeing in.
Time for a pop quiz. You walk into the bathroom and no one is using any of the urinals. You intend to pee. Which urinal do you opt for? There is a correct answer.
While the toilets offer projection by virtue of walls and a lock, urinals are a brave man’s vehicle. You must be vigilant. Which position offers the most cover? The middle urinal is the worst choice. You’re leaving your starboard and your port open. The urinal closest to the door seems like an okay choice, but typically this urinal is a bit shorter, and you’re a big man who pisses at the big urinals. The correct answer is the urinal closest to the toilets. The stalls cover your left, and if you’re a right-handed man such as myself that can provide a bit of cover to your right.
If another man should enter while you’re stationed there, they should assume the urinal closest to the door. If there are men stationed at both outside urinals, the next man should either wait or pee in the stalls if they’re open. The middle urinal is not an option.
Not selecting the middle urinal is not just a matter of personal privacy. It is a matter of respect for the room. We are men, and we are here to pee, and if you get within 2 feet of me I will be upset.
RULE 2: STAY AWAY FROM ME
If everyone’s doing their job right in the men’s restroom, you should only hear flushes, paper towel dispensing, and the occasional bowel movement. Any word spoken is one word too many. If you see an acquaintance, the most you may do is nod to them. One time after a class, I was walking with a peer, holding polite conversation. I said I was stopping in the restroom, and the peer said they were as well. We took our positions at our urinals. Then he asked me a question:
“You got a plan for what you’re gonna do for the final project?”
I did not respond.
RULE 3: DON’T TALK TO ME
I saw Monsters University in theaters with my grandparents and my brothers. My grandma smuggled Dole juice bottles in her purse. I drank all of mine during the previews and spent the next hour and a half holding in piss. Finally the movie concluded, and I darted to the restroom. I took position at a urinal, but then I noticed something. A line had formed behind me. Despite 90 minutes of knowing deeply and truly that I had to pee, I could not manage to produce anything.
It is a dreadful thing to be perceived. A watched man never pees.
RULE 4: DON’T LOOK AT ME
Have you ever heard of the Gospel of Judas? In the 1970’s an Egyptian farmer found a series of scrolls that have been dated to around 280 CE. They’re non-canonical texts, meaning they relate to the Bible but aren’t church-certified true additions to the book. The Gospel of Judas turns the whole New Testament on its head. It asserts that rather than Judas betraying Jesus out of greed, he was instead told to do so by Jesus himself. Judas was a necessary and active part of Jesus’ sacrifice. He had to break every rule he believed in. And that was love.
Every bar restroom has the beautiful thoughts of man scratched and scribbled on every surface. Names. Dates. Actions. Movements.
Insults.
“BRANDON SUCKS,” “KYLE IS A PUSSY.” These are the names of friends. These carvings are men proclaiming their friendship in the only way they know how.
My favorite bar restroom has a heart scratched on one of the walls that has “C + Lindsey” inscribed on the inside. When I see a heart scratched in a public place, it can sometimes feel performative. A trick to gain points. This is different. Lindsey has almost definitely never seen this heart. C just loved her, so he put it on the wall.
RULE 1: DON’T ASK MY NAME. ASK ME WHO I LOVE.
My dad and older brother work at the same place. Every day my older brother takes a dump in the smaller stall. Some days, my dad will walk into the same restroom during this time and begin to pee in the urinal next to the stalls. When presented with this scenario, my brother will always realize this is my dad, and stick his foot under the door of the stall and start kicking him.
I once asked my brother how he knew it was our dad who was in the restroom with him. After all, they work at a large white collar company, and a move like this can only be made if he is certain. I assumed it would be based on his shoes or something to that effect. My brother told me he had no idea what kind of shoes our dad wore. He can tell by how he breathes.
To be recognized by your breathing is to be loved.
RULE 2: STAY AWAY FROM ME. YOU KNOW ME TOO WELL.
My little brother and I shared a bedroom for 6 years. While I often wished I had my own room, I felt empty once I finally moved into my older brother’s old room when he left for college. Plus, my old room had a bathroom connected to it. My little brother and I would talk late into the night about school, the future, whatever. Sometimes I would need a break to go piss. My brother always had a bad habit of continuing to talk as I went.
RULE 3: DON’T TALK TO ME. I CANNOT HEAR YOU HERE.
I wanted to give my little brother a taste of the college experience when he came to visit me during his senior year of high school. I wanted to make sure he could handle himself. I wanted to make sure his first time being drunk was with me. One of my roommates was DJing a frat party, and through that connection I was able to get us in. I taught him to take two Busch Lites from the bar instead of one, to avoid extra trips. I took him to the best late-night pizza place. Finally, after realizing we weren’t going to make it to my place in time, I showed him the safest back alley to piss in. As we responded to nature’s calling, my brother made a comment.
“Yo. Dude. Look up.”
RULE 4: DON’T LOOK AT ME. LOOK AT THE STARS.
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