I’m sorry to be the one to break this to you, but this is not a MockMom piece.

Nope. No satire here.

According to a recent survey from Time Out, 39% of folks admit to choking the chicken in the office john.

I don’t know if it is boredom, laziness, or truly their libido causing them to make such a weird choice. All I can say is that I don’t understand it.

Y’all, I work full time, and pocket ping-pong is the last thing on my mind when I use the community bathroom, for a myriad of reasons.

First, the partitions between the stalls offer about as much privacy as a screen door. It’s as if the architect wanted them to be as high as possible so that we could recognize our neighbors enough by their knees to make polite conversation while we pinch our loaves.

(“Oh hi, Darla. Say, how did you get that bruise on your upper calf? I just noticed it while I was wiping.”)

And the smell? It’s a combination of sanitary napkins, urinal cakes, and Wednesday-after-Taco-Tuesday.

But perhaps it’s the sights and sounds of public potties that put the 39% in an amorous state of mind. The community loo is tiled, wall-to-wall, so as to create an echo chamber of shame.

I guess some people have a shame fetish?

Could it be the skid marks at the bottom of the bowl?

The deep, bellowing anal volcanoes reverberating in the distance?

The translucent toilet paper that absorbs one’s urine at a rate of 1 drop per roll?

The spray-back of of that industrial-strength flush that sprinkles the user in fecal bacteria?

The cheap hand soap?

The stingy paper towel dispenser?

So yeah, 39%ers, I guess if all that interests you, knock yourself out.

As for the other 61% of us, we will henceforth be quadruple-wrapping the toilet in disposable seat covers.