Instant Psychoanalysis

I was using a one-person public bathroom, when all of a sudden the door opens and a man walks in. He took a look at my ass, yelled out “Way to lock it, buddy!” and slammed the door in frustration. I concluded he was a repressed homosexual who was worried that seeing a penis, or a well-shaped ass like my own, would push him over the edge into the lifestyle of short-shorts, bushy mustaches, well-plucked eyebrows, creating scenes in public places with their partners, and partaking in the forbidden pleasure of man-on-man buttsex*.

Odds are that he’s from the Midwest. Or the South.


*Strangest thing about this story: the word “buttsex” is not yet recognized by Microsoft Word’s spellchecker. You’d think Queer Eye would have changed this by now. Someone start an online petition.