Always an old creepy white guy loitering near the stalls, waiting for someone to take a shit, waiting to wave his wrinkled hand under the divider, hoping someone will wave back, suck him off or play with his old balls.
Why can’t old gay dudes just go to a gay bar, find someone there to fuck, find someone there to touch their taint?
Always a carni-worker, sweeping up trash, wearing a stale, brown outfit, looking sadly at the life that passed him by. Putting up the chain on one of the two bathroom entrances, “this side closed for service“, so he can mop up the misguided piss, clean up the old man jizz, throw away the leftover shit stained scraps of toilet paper stuck to the cold concrete floors, flush the un-flushed toilets and then do the same to the other side.
Always a security guard with a heavy flashlight, stupid ass tight uniform pants, leaning like a slack-ass against a 1992 Subaru, using a dime to scratch off another $2 lottery ticket, almost a winner, just one more $ in the winning row and he can move to Florida and fish every day. Another Marlboro Red to discard to the ground, squished by his Wal-Mart boots. He’s not really securing anything, just shining his flashlight at the cars looking for some glimpse of tit.
Always me, paying $1.25 for a pack of M&M’s and $1.75 for a Mountain Dew. Damn, I wonder if the old creepy white guy at least uses KY before fucking, these damn machines sure don’t.