long time ago
A downtown department store that was well known for being very cruisy; one of its mens rooms was infamous for dick hounds, and with good reason. It was located a remote corner of the building. The store was tall and had many floors; on this one was very little that would attract any shoppers. And finally, it was very secluded. You would only know it was there if you'd been in it once already. You went down a hallway, through a door and into another hallway, at which point there was the door to the men's room itself. The sound of the door opening was enough to tip anybody off inside that they had to keep their moaning and sex sounds down to the minimum until they determined if the interloper was there for sex, also.
It was a disgusting scene. The men's room was only marginally clean, and extremely outdated. There were two large urinals that were of a bygone era, practically in the shape of bathtubs. There were four toilet stalls, three of which had the doors removed so they had no privacy at all. You could walk in there at any given moment and there would be people seated on those johns, pants around the ankles. It was a bizarre sight. What's worse, the men's room attracted a lot of undesirables, mostly people who could not afford the $3 it cost to get into the video arcades in the porn shops. Many of them were vagrants, gross men of all races, white haired men who resembled shambling scarecrows.
So what drew the others there, the occasional hot guy or curious dabbler? I suppose it was the reputation of the place. Quite simply, it was the closest to being mainstream that cruising for sex could get. A LOT of people knew about it and would joke about it. And it drew men for that reason, too.
I may have written about the place here once or twice before, but not much happened there for me. There was something subterranean and weird about the room, utterly bizarre in its layout, its anachronistic fixtures, its overall sense of a bygone era of design. I used to have nightmares inspired by the place. It tapped into some primal part of me that I was only beginning to understand at that time, but it suggested even greater things. I'd have dreams of being in public places and thinking about cruising the men's room, only to have chilling, monstrous laughter resonate from the direction of the john. Something was waiting to get me in there. I guess in some way, it did.
That place is gone now. They tried cleaning it up, posted undercover cops in there to arrest any unfortunate guys who happened to fall for their game. Eventually they just closed the men's room altogether, blocked off the hallway. I sometimes imagine breaking through that wall and finding that isolated hallway behind it, wandering back into that abandoned men's room, and still finding lonely, long-forgotten men sitting there with their pants around their ankles in those dirty stalls.