The guy who talks to you while you're taking a piss

so you've just had six cups of coffee and nature calls. so you head off to the restroom to take a squeege before you explode. Everything is nice and relaxing until he walks in. All you want to do is piss in silence, but this guy decides that it is social hour. Common things heard are:

Hey there! I see we have the same bladder schedule...
So, you come here often?
Hmmm. So we're both standing here holding our dicks...

This is even more of an uncomfortable situation if "Sir Talk-A-Lot" is some guy sitting on the toilet. Usually he says stupid loud things in pathetic attempt to cover up the obscene sounds coming out of his ass. These are oftentimes followed by loud coughing as he does his business:

Woah! Look out! Here comes the motherload!
So, how 'bout them Yankees?

This is just the kind of stuff you don't want to deal with. Draining the weasel is a fleeting relief from the drudgery of the rat race, the one place that you don't have to answer questions or deal with people...
Except for, of course, that guy that talks to you while you're taking a piss.

One day at work, I was busy attending to a #2, when it became apparent that someone else had occupied the stall next to my own. He had the same mission as I, and as the cruel forces of circumstance would have it, we both had a particularly loud experience.

Clearly, this is an inherently awkward situation. After a little while of this, we both finished up, and again coincidentally, exited our stalls at the exact same time. Eye contact was unavoidable, and I saw that it was a young German guy from another area of my office building. I mentally prepared for the inevitable palpable unease to sink in.

Instead of quickly diverting his eyes, as I had expected, he decided to take a whole different route. He fixed me with a huge grin, and said in his thick accent, "Isn't it funny... we all shit in the same boat!" and proceeded to laugh good-naturedly. For a second I was utterly confused, but then I joined in the laughter, thankful that once again, I had been reminded not to take life too seriously.

This was a man who never really liked clowns. In fact he was one of those people that has an irrational phobia of clowns. It wasn't so bad as the Can't sleep, clowns will eat me tee shirts, but clowns just made him nervous, and he wasn't at all fond of them. He tried to not go to places where there were lots of clowns, and they didn’t particularly try to find him, so his fear was rather to the back of his mind most of the time.

One day, though, he finds himself on some fairly long commute, sees his car is running low on gas, and pulls in to a gas station/restraints to refuel both the car and himself. He tanks up, eats a quick meal and heads to the restroom to do his business before continuing his drive. It's empty and he finds himself a urinal.

Partway through, the door opens and another man enters the restroom. Following male bathroom etiquette, our traveler doesn't pay any attention to the newcomer, who situations himself a couple urinals down. But finally his sense of wrongness and the weirdness he sees out of corner of his eye gets the better of him and he turns to get a better look. It's a clown. Man in a full clown outfit, baggy jumper, big boots, wig, nose, greasepaint, and all, standing there using the urinal casual as can be.

Our "hero" starts getting nervous, since clowns weird him out at the best of times, and this isn't exactly in those best times, either. He looks away. Looks nervously at the wall, trying to hurry up. Looks at the clown again out of morbid curiosity. Looks away, looks at the clown yet again. And this time the clown is looking back, makes direct eye contact.

And this clown, standing there in full get-up, smoking a cigarette, using the urinal, looks the man square in the eye, notices his nervousness, and drawls in the kind of drawl only a true southerner at a gas station can accomplish, "Buddy, ain't no one never gonna believe you", finishes, and walks out.