"Surely you've looked?" "No." "Not even a little peek?" "No. I'm sorry to disappoint but I've never looked." "Never?" "Never. Never have, never will." "Not even by mistake?" "No. Now listen very carefully now. When a guy goes into a public toilet he heads straight for a loo. You unzip, you whip out mister happy and do your business. No looking left or right; no checking out who else is in the toilet with you; nothing. A yeti could be using the trough next to you but you don't check, never check. If you're feeling a bit full and you're going to be there awhile you think of something to do, and quick, before the eyes wonder in the wrong direction. You can tell when someone is looking at you when you pee. You dry up; you could be bursting but you'll get stage-fright. The last time I used a public toilet I counted the number of tile in a wall mosaic, a hundred and thirty-six by the way. If you run out of things to do find something else to do or just do it again. Don't get caught with nothing to do. When you're standing in line you can always spot the new boys; they're the one who start figiting before they're finished, shuffling their feet, shaking like they're fresh off a coke habit. Run out of ideas and you're done for; zip up and piss yourself rather than look away. I have a theory. All guys could write important exams in the loo; everyone of them would ace all their everything. The level of concentration required in keeping to yourself in a room full of men should be harnessed. I do some of my best thinking with my todger for all to see." "I don't get it? What's the big deal about looking?" "Try peeing up against a wall in a room full of women staring at you." "So you never look?" "No!"