I had an experience today that reminded me of a post from Debriefing the Boys. I tried looking for the link but sadly couldn’t come up with it.

It dealt with sharing the same urinal wall as a guy you’re interested in and the different sounds their flow can make. He thought that a guy with a nice strong flow, and whom wasn’t shy about hitting the water was more attractive than those who try to hide the fact that they’re urinating.

Anyways, I had just finished my workout at the gym and stopped by the restroom to relieve myself.

A number of months ago I had switched gyms partly because of the vicinity to home and partly because there was this manager guy who was obnoxious about trying to get me to buy training days even though I told him there was no way I could make that kind of investment.

Well, there was this trainer who also worked at my prior gym who was pretty hot. Not really my type but very nice to look at considering the lack of eye candy the place seemed to have (you’d think there would be more considering it’s a gym).

Back to the point, I’d noticed this trainer had started working at my current gym a few weeks ago.

So there I am standing at the urinal finishing my business and who should decide to make use of the stall next to me…trainer cutie!

I, of course, take a deep breath and concentrate on the wall in front of me as I do every time I feel the urge. Not wanting him to think I’d want to see what he was packing, when the truth is that it’s really what I wanted to do.

So his flow starts and it reminds of that post I mentioned earlier. It was a nice strong flow and he wasn’t shy about it hitting the pool of water below. So now I’ve got this image of him being this nice, strong, fit male. Unabashed by what others think of him and holding his own. A very nice image for me in those brief seconds.

And then he farts…and it warps that whole previous image into the old guy I passed in the supermarket the other day, who let one fly in the juice aisle and thought nothing of it.

Fantasy shattered, I turn my heel and head into the changing room to grab my bag to head home. It’s funny how little things like that can totally change your perspective of someone.

From now on he will always be connected with that fart. I will think of funny rhyming nicknames as he passes, and smell imaginary stinks when he wanders my way.

Makes me wonder what kind of things, unknown to myself, people equate me. Maybe in the case of trainer boy, it’s better that I don’t know.

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