Drew Ailes can figure out how every single thing sucks. Because of this supernatural power, City Pages enlisted him to serve as a counterbalance to the cheery No. 1 Best Bike City with Craft Beers made from Artisan Crepes mentality of the Twin Cities. If something is pissing you off, he’s your guy. Tweet (@CountBakula) or email him with any topic — baseball, Axl Rose, zucchini, whatever — to find out more about how it sucks.
After an hour of hunching up my shoulders and staring into my phone like some sort of robotic rodent, the 48 ounces of brain-muting piss-water known as “beer” storms into my bladder. I slide off my bar stool like the over-inflated slug I am and lumber toward the bathroom of the 331 Club.
There, I notice two equally lumpy goons lurching outside of the single stall men’s bathroom, clearly waiting their turn. A bathroom is a bathroom, so I enter the room where there is no line but there is certainly a toilet: the women’s restroom.
Being that I am a burly, bald, white male, the media and my own experiences in general have convinced me that I am an annoying dirtball. Even though it makes me self-conscious at times, the only real drawback of looking like a cartoon version of a construction worker is that people assume you’re the one who farted.
The upside to looking this way is that people constantly apologize to you and basically let you do whatever you want in life. As I learned dating an African American woman, my life is unique in that people constantly listen to me, even when I am wrong, and no one ever accuses me of stealing shit at stores — even when I was younger and actually stealing shit from stores.
So I’m in the women’s restroom and I notice that some evil and inhuman force has pissed on the seat. Luckily I don’t HAVE to sit down to piss (although sometimes I do out of laziness), so I lift the lid and open up the floodgates.
Then there’s a knock on the door by a fist that shatters my world and cripples my spirit.
“Shit, someone is mad at me because I am in the wrong bathroom,” I think. But as I am a bald white male, I hold an intrinsic arrogance, and believe that this isn’t really something I need to worry about. I can just explain their nonsensical anger away. “I’ll just remind them that this is just a bathroom and we’re all just doing the same thing,” I think to myself.
Chin up and urine-expelling parts safely confined, I fling open the door and emerge with the mindset of, “A-ha! ‘Tis I! Bald White Man: King of the City!” I'm met with the simultaneous groan of three women, clearly fucked up about the fact that they had to wait because of some dude. My confidence shrinks, and I adopt the ugly face of justification.
“Look, it’s just a fucking bathroom, all right?" I say. "All I did was piss in your toilet. And you know what? That piss that’s on the seat wasn’t from me! I lifted the lid up instead of just pissing on it more!”
The ringleader of the group tilts her head slightly and scoffs. “And you didn’t clean it off?”
“No, not my mess,” I say as I push through the narrow entryway back into the bar.
Looking back, I can understand why these women were upset; most of their lives have probably been wasted by men like me in some way or another, and this was simply just another episode of some fuckin’ guy just being inconsiderate and self-serving. Totally legitimate criticism. But this episode of outrage segues perfectly into a much bigger issue at hand: Despite what bars and idiots in South Dakota and North Carolina believe, gender-neutral bathrooms are the only idea that makes sense — especially when it comes to single-stall bathrooms.
Before we get into this, let us discuss the only legitimate point of why we need bathrooms for different genders:
Men Are Horrible
Much like many problems in our world, the people who society approves as “legitimate” men have real fuckin’ issues that translate to their genitals. So there is some reasonable concern that having shared gender-neutral bathrooms might cause these men to pull their dicks out on basically anyone who isn’t them.
Don’t believe me? If you’re a dude reading this, prepare to get bummed out as you survey your female friends on how many times in their lives a dick, some balls, or both have just randomly been pulled out on them for no apparent reason.
Considering that men are responsible for the worst shit in the world — like the Holocaust, the Spanish Inquisition, and everything else you can think of — it's a wonder that men are even given a bathroom to use anyway. Really, make all those flashing fuckers use single stall private restrooms for the safety of society.
Now that that’s squared away, we’ll spell out all the reasons why having gender-specified bathrooms is fucking absurd:
Bathrooms are already as literally and figuratively shitty as possible.
Work in a restaurant or a gas station and you’ll quickly learn that people, no matter who they are, are incapable of representing their humanity when it comes to pissing, shitting, or vomiting. You will find all of these horrid substances splattered on the floor and walls of any facility, because everyone is just awful. If you’re lucky, you’ll just find large mysterious wads of toilet paper pushed into corners.
You don’t even need to have a job cleaning bathrooms to understand how bad people are in them. Every day you can observe how people talk on the phone while taking a shit and then leave without washing their hands. The people who do wash often enjoy using an entire roll of paper towels even though they could just wipe their hands on their fucking pants instead of killing a forest.
While it’s said that urinals were created to save space and improve worker productivity (assholes!), the chief function of urinals now is to advertise Singles Cruise Ship Getaways and expensive cars, and to provide a shelf where men can proudly display the pubes they have ripped out of their crotches to impress fellow men.
A less obvious reason urinals are still used is for men to assert their manliness and silently acknowledge their homophobia while wasting as much water as possible. Curiously, the idea of reaffirming “manhood” makes sense when you consider that the patent for the urinal was filed right after the Civil War — the same year that women’s suffrage champions Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony formed the American Equal Rights Association.
Someone’s Gender Is Not Your Business
Can someone out there in dumb internet land sincerely explain to me why it’s anyone’s business what someone’s genitals look like or how they want to live their life? No? Well, I’ll explain it to you then: The reason people care is that humans have this bullshit neurotic need to classify and understand everything they encounter because if they can understand something, they can figure out how to control it and determine how it defines them.
That’s where all of this comes from: People are too fucking stupid and insecure to admit that it’s okay to not understand who or what someone is the same way you’ll never understand biochemistry or why Fruity Yummy Mummy cereal was discontinued. You don’t need to understand who is in the bathroom with you because it doesn’t fucking matter to your life — unless you’re flagrantly doing drugs and you suspect someone may be a cop.
I know there’s an additional debate for shared locker rooms, but in the end, we all just need to acknowledge that doing anything private in public just sort of sucks. And that’s why gender-neutral bathrooms fit perfectly in the grand theory of America: Things should suck for us all, equally.