The bathroom had two sinks, two urinals and three stalls. I had it to myself, when I first unleashed my fluid. The other urinal to my left was too close for comfort and than I heard the sound of a door open midway through piss. Next I heard foot steps inching closer towards my direction. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it, I thought. My heart raced as the stomps got closer and closer and closer. Don’t do it mother fucker was my final thought before he parked into my territory. I let out a huff of frustration in hopes of getting him to leave. His obesity couldn’t be ignored through my peripherals and unfortunately his fat ass never left.

I don’t fucking get it, I really don’t, I never have, nor will I ever. There are three open stalls you fat fuck. We are not saying prayer, for the love of god give me some fucking space. I quit three quarters into my stream which hurts. Woman can stop it with the blink of an eye, but if your a man, it stings dearly. So I Zipped things up, walked over to the sink and couldn’t help but notice a fresh beer sitting on the counter.

“Hey”, “Is this your beer”? I asked

“No”. The man responded

“Well it is now”, I said .

I picked up the plastic cup of draft, which was nearly full and threw it at the man and ran away.