The Pissing
It’s not a phobia. Don’t call it that. Phobia suggests something unalterable, something born in the blood, and this isn’t that. Phobia is not the right word.
It’s a preference, really. Spenser just doesn’t like using public bathrooms when someone else is in there. It’s not about other people. It’s about the space, it’s about temporarily inhabiting that space with other bodies. It’s the chemical sheen, the white glare, the standing water near the rim of the sink, the acrid tang of ammonia-gnashed urinal cakes razoring the soft pink tissue of his sinuses. Everything about the space just sets him on edge.
He can do it if he has to. If it’s urgent, truly urgent, he can walk right in and do it. And if he is lucky enough to find an empty bathroom and someone walks in midstream, it’s not like he freezes up or has to pinch it off. Sure, there might be a bit of a clench if he hears the shriek of the door hinge, but so what? The stream itself — rich, foamy lager in the morning, weak lemonade in the afternoon, clear as water in the evening — is never interrupted. It’s not a phobia.
Look, this isn’t a huge complication in his life, some debilitating psychic lock. If he’s going and someone walks in, he finishes up without small talk or eye contact, hustles to wash his hands and he’s out of there. Wash hands, get out. If the dryer is near the door, he might stop to use it, but the dryer is completely optional if someone else is in there.
Other scenarios demand different responses. If Spenser walks into a bathroom and there’s a line or he simply feels uneasy with the number of eyeballs that level on him as enters, then he heads straight to the nearest garbage can without breaking stride and pretends to throw something away, pivots, and walks right back out. If he enters and someone is finishing up — fastening a belt or plunging the lever — then Spenser can time his approach so that he moves in as they turn to the sink and then be staring at the wall as they exit. No eye contact, no chitchat.
It’s really not that big a deal. It’s just a personal preference. It’s about being comfortable. Why should he feel awkward about being comfortable and wanting a bit of privacy? The world would be a better place if everyone were a bit more private.
But let’s not talk about using stalls. The less said about stalls the better.
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