TOILET SEAT CONFESSIONAL

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The unisex public restroom, a Cirque du Soliele show of microscopic organisms. For years, I imagined bacteria that could run, jump, pole vault, even breast stroke against a stream of urine. But before you sign me up for germaphobics anonymous, allow me to make an admission. 

There I stand, patiently waiting for the restroom doors to open. When a guy leaves the porcelain cockpit, deliberately avoiding eye contact because he's urinated all over the seat! What a lunatic! 

Now wait... Why should I complain? As a man, I have the luxury of standing, while my cheeklets rest warmly in the seat of my Levi jeans. But please, dudes, bros, jabronies, lets respect the comfort of our ladies, they HAVE to sit. What's more, think how easy it is to lift a seat! A practice that should be taught in schools, using the side of ones shoe. 

Confession: I simply will not take the blame for the selfish act. And I will be blamed, whether I peed on the seat or not. The way it looks, I have a perfect record to maintain. So I sigh, tearing off a mile of toilet paper, reaching down -- still sighing -- to wipe away someone else's urine and any potential tears. Leaving the seat clean and ready for sitting. A small part of me always dies in the process, but it MUST be done! I can't take being wrongfully blamed for such a disgraceful act.

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I honestly have no clue if this is absurd, or common practice. But even if it changes the habits of one man, I will have left the world a better, cleaner, safer place...

Why have I posted this?

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THE GUY IN THE GLASS: POEM