Why doesn’t somebody create an “Express Men’s Room”? You know, a second men’s room that has just urinals and sinks. Nothing ruins a perfectly pleasant number one than someone blasting away in the stall, plopping away columns of stank. Or, just as bad, the lingering aftereffects of someone’s putrid colon flotsam. If you just need to pop in and out of the bathroom for something as innocent as a wee, you should be able to do it at a safe distance from the accumulated shame cloud of afterbeef generated by the y-chromosomed portion of the masses. The Express Men’s Room would be the privy-equivalent of the ATM at the bank or the 12-items-or fewer-line at the grocery store. You don’t have any serious business to conduct, or a huge load to bag up, you just want to get in and get out without having to stand behind someone conducting a complicated transaction or wheeling up with two carts full of junk and then paying for it with rolls of dimes. The Express Men’s Room. Pee in Pee-ace.
Possible downside: Somebody would definitely poop in one of the urinals.
