Breaking My Silence on Old-Timey Urinals

Someone had to do it.

If there’s one question I get asked more than just about any other, it’s that one about how I feel about old-timey urinals. And let me be clear: I love old-timey urinals. In fact, the learn of the whereabouts of one, well, you can take a guess where I’m headed.

It’s at this point that you’re probably thinking that I’m also “into urine.” And to that I say “Ew- gross!” I mean I’m not “not into urine” either. I guess I just accept urine as a part of life, no more, no less. Wait- why are we even talking about this?

But getting back to old-timey urinals or “vintage urinals” as they are known on the urinal collector circuit, I have been a fan of them for some time, at least twenty years now, in fact. They are much bigger than the urinals of today and far more care seems to have gone into their creation. Many of them are almost tomb-like in size and it’s not hard to imagine someone being pushed right into the cavity of one and sealed up inside forever, never to be heard from again. I mean, on the one hand, “Ew- gross!” again. But on the other “I dunno- I’d kind of like to see it.”

I think the reason I like old-timey urinals- or OTUs as I will refer to them here moving forward- is they make me think of some bygone era or another when old-timey guys (OTGs) would stand in front of them relieving themselves while wearing full-sized fedoras (NOT the annoying mini kind we see far too much today), smoking filterless cigarettes, and calling each other “Bub” and “Mack.”

I don’t why I assume they even talked to each other at the urinal back then, but it’s a fun image. As for me, I tend to avoid chitchat of all forms while using a urinal. In fact, with the exception of singing nineties R&B songs at full volume, I don’t think one should utter a word while using a urinal- you do your thing and move on. If you wanna socialize in the restroom, do it over by the sinks or- if things really heat up- in the stalls. No judgment here, only applause.

It’s at this point that you’re probably wondering which are my favorite OTUs (old-timey urinals, in case you forgot) out there today. And some of the best ones can be found in my adopted hometown of New York City, specifically at places like the original P.J. Clarke’s on the East Side and the Old Town Bar near Union Square. McSorley’s has some too, I think, but it’s been a while and I’m not positive.

My buddy Carl has a bar and restaurant in his adopted hometown of Evansville, Indiana called Arcademie and he salvaged an OTU from someplace or another and put it into his place. It’s really something. If you turned it on its side, it could probably hold a dozen Thanksgiving turkeys. I mean, it would be weird (yet amazing) if you did that but hopefully you see my point. And not that I do this sort of thing, but if you were using this particular urinal and felt like peeing in just about any direction short of turning around altogether, it would be near impossible to fake this one out. It’s got range.

Another impressive urinal can be found at the Freemason’s Hall in Edinburgh, Scotland, where I performed for two weeks straight at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival this past August. I used the ones pictured above at least a couple times a night while I was there and what a treat it was. They oozed history and- thankfully- not much else do to good upkeep and no shortage of air fresheners. I probably should have set a pound coin on the ground before taking this photo so you could get a sense of scale, but hindsight’s 20/20. Just take my word on it though. These things were really something. Get a load of that grate too!

It was fun to picture old-timey Scottish men with secrets relieving themselves in front of these old Scottish urinals while calling each other names Ian, Bryce, or maybe even the “C” word (as the Scots are wont to do).

Or maybe they were just like me and preferred to sing R&B instead.