Just went to the lavatory and learnt two lessons.
Like when and not to bond.
And it all starts before urine.
Every guy is a potential comrade but few will soar to friends. Customarily the safest way of telling when you found a keeper is by the silence test* and preferable it'll pass without notice.
Spending a moment together without the urge to mention last nights score, burp or any other way to break the silence that so slithering crawls up underneath the heavy cape of noise we guys, secretly hoping to be superheroes, so comfortably dress up in.
It’s the same bond in sport that makes us hug after a goal and cry after a loss.
A male thing.
And yet, as I got company by the urinal I accidentally got a bit nervous, maybe my subconsciousness saw him as a potential comrade, and broke all rules of lavatory manners.
Mixing it all up; talk, no talk, when to talk, hi, silence.
Brave enough to acknowledge my mistake of greeting my urinal-companion; I zipped up without apologizing, realizing that further conversation could unleash hell.
What if he thinks I’m gay.
Conclusion: In the lavatory, the always-uncomfortable muteness should be treasured dearly and bonding must never occur.
*It isn’t a real test.