Ultimately, we did not actually patronize any of the three machines above the urinals in this week's outgoing beer receptacle. But we did take some time to imagine the scenarios where one might do some pisser-shopping here. What sort of desperation does it take to buy porn in the bathroom of a bar?
There's more potential weirdness. Suppose you were in there and another guy was buying the "Love Kit." Is it awkward later when he's sidling up next to a girl in one of this bar's booths? What if you lock eyes and there's this moment of recognition: You know, if he plays his cards right, there's massage oil in her future. She doesn't know that, but he knows you know it. If you offer him a high-five when he's leaving with her, does that make you an asshole?
These are the sorts of difficult philosophical questions raised by Guess Where I'm Peeing, truly the finest journalistic service we provide here at Backbeat.
If you can successfully guess where I'm peeing this week, we'll steal a roll of toilet paper containing no fewer than two plys from the office supply cabinet and give it to you as a prize. Unless we don't.
Oh, and while we're on the subject of Guess Where I'm Peeing: Last week's loo belongs to Sancho's Broken Arrow.
