Now I think everyone can imagine this situation. You walk into a public restroom, possible having some gastro-intestinal problems, also known as G.I. Distress. You pick a stall and drop your pants. As soon as you sit down, you are berated with drawings and writings that are usually more graphic than Hustler Magazine cartoons. This is what I deem bathroom art.
In my studies, which were fueled by cabbage, cheese, and beer and led to countless hours spent in the stall, I believe I have been able to separate these undiscovered artists into several categories.
First category is the “All the ____ people should die” and the “For a good time…” people. To sum up this group of half-wits, all I can say is that they are complete amateurs. They really have no respect for the work and dedication put into bathroom art. They do not know how to live the true culture of the bathroom artist.
A sub-category is the group I call the "Debaters.” These are the people who read the various writings on the wall, and become so enraged that they decide they need to pull out a pen of their own to make their opinions known. You end up with a debate that could rival some presidential debates. Something that goes a little like this: “You suck,” “No! You suck!” “Oh yea! Your mom sucks,” and so on. I believe these were the people that were cut from their high school debate team, but I could be wrong.
Second is your “Proverb/Haiku” writers. I also include “Corporate Terrorists” in this category. They fill the stalls with factoids and tidbits about all walks of life. Letting me know how many little Guatemalan children were paid a handsome reward of two cents per day to make my fashionable jeans. Personally I enjoy these little bits of information and funny rhymes about women with special talents from Nantucket. It is not everyday that you can finish flushing and say, “Well I’ll be damned, guess you do learn something everyday.”
.Finally and most importantly comes the group who lives the true life of the bathroom artist. These people take pride in their work, and it shows. These are the people who have the ability to draw life-size male genitalia or very graphic copulation scenes. Attention to detail is of the utmost importance to this group. Every last drop of sweat, every last hair, and every facial expression are carefully attended to. In the end, we are left with a glorious masterpiece.
Still, questions that arise upon seeing these works of art. Is this a one sitting effort? Do they decide to drop a deuce and hammer out a mural, or are these works-in-progress that is returned to on a daily basis? If someone is in their stall when they go in, do they wait around till the person is done or do they just choose another stall? What goes through their head when they start a big drawing? Do they look at the walls and think, “Hey! You know what this place needs? A big penis on the wall.”
The world knows Twain, Angelou, and Dali, but I am willing to bet that it will never know that for a good time we should all go see Sheila or that on Sunday at 7:30, Bubba will be in here for an informal “meeting”.