I was watching the wonderful display of hilarity known as Scrubs one night, at some point in the last two seasons, and I came across a tickling concept: the pee schedule. Yes, the pee schedule - the internal biological clock that all humans live by which determines when their body expedites its liquid waste. The show focused on two individuals who didn't exactly love each other who were inexplicably and unalterably on the same schedule.

Enjoying the antics of the episode, I thought about how I had never encountered or even heard in passing of such a thing: two people having the same pee schedule. I shrugged it off, deducing that such an accurate unordered synchronization of "bathroom buddies" wasn't possible in the natural world.

I was wrong.

Enter the new job I hate. I was the "newbie" around here for a while until they hired a smug, sniveling asslick who came to this frivolous place of commerce by way of bartending at TGIFriday's. I wish I were kidding about that. I am not.

I thought I had plenty of reason to hate this guy before. He looked like a putz, and he kissed everyone's (read: everyone whom I hate's) ass. He talked like a used car salesman or an infomercial rep. Worst of all, he was proving himself a more efficient worker than I was. Hey, look. What do you really think I do at work? Somebody's gotta come up with this stuff on a regular basis. And what? You think I'm going to use my precious free time to write? Ha! Two words for you buddy: Absinthe.

Hold on, I just got out of a fistfight with my boss. Ok, better now. So, I'm saying…I'm in a Office Space situation where I'm only going to do the bare minimum because I have absolutely no incentive to do more. But Mr. "Extreme Fajitas" is over here on the "fast track" trying to make me "look bad." Par for the course. Letting go is beautiful. I forgot about this guy after about a week.

He wasn't really in my hair. Or was he? Soon thereafter, I began to sense a horrific anomaly in the universe of human waste disposal mechanics; every time I had to use the restroom, so did he. Not cool.

At first, I thought it was a fluke. But after a few days of being hip to the fact that I saw the back of his head every time I opened the WC door, I started to think: what if this guy is on the same pee schedule as me?

It couldn't be. I would not accept it. I could not conceive of such a thing! But even when playing with the fates, I discovered this hypothesis was rock solid.

Sometimes, I would deliberately drink more water, to have to go more often. Still, he was there every time. I would hesitate when my bladder became full, waiting a few minutes after the natural urge to relieve came upon me. Regardless, even if he wasn't in there when I arrived, he would be a few short moments later.

This began to irk me out. Many of you are confused as to why I even notice this kind of thing. I'll tell you why. I hate going to the bathroom with other people around me. Yeah, I said it; I don't believe in insecurities, my flaws are nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm pee-shy, and I find no greater peace than having the bathroom all to myself so I don't have to listen to another man spit and whistle. Or God forbid, try to spark up a convo while I'm dousing the urinal next to him.

What bothers me is not so much the fact that there is always someone there with me, but the fact that they do not know how to act around me. I've already mentioned spitting, whistling, and the mortal sin of talking. Why would I want to hear your poor singing? Why would I want to hear you tapping your feet? Why must you make things awkward, and then make them 100 times more awkward by standing there for incessant periods of time, presumably enjoying bouts of "the shake" a little too much?

Here is the real problem. Corporate bathrooms are small. Two urinals, two, maybe three toilets. Unlike many fast food restaurants and other establishments of commerce in the information society, in an office, there is no intrinsic urgency to rush. It's no longer a pit stop: in and out as fast as you can. No, apparently the office bathroom is apparently a warm, inviting place where you can apparently rehearse all the lyrics to Mariah Carey's "Charmbracelet" album. Apparently.

If every stall is filled and every urinal is attended save one, of course I understand you going for it. This is its purpose. I love productivity and function, so I will not rant about function achieving its fullest proper potential. However, when I am in there, and there are two open urinals/toilets (hereafter referred to as "stations," there is absolutely neither rhyme nor reason for you to take your stance right next to me. Especially if you have a song and dance that would get booed at the Apollo.

I feel the need to discuss bathroom etiquette with the world. Namely the aforementioned. If I am utilizing the leftmost of three (or more) stations, the correct station to take is any but the one next to me. Doing otherwise will only create a possibly tense situation that is wholly unnecessary. This can't possibly make you more comfortable than being on the completely opposite side of me. It doesn't for me.

Also, if there are three stalls, and there is someone on either end, do not sit in the middle! Why? Because you are bound to be weird, apt to make lots of strange noises, and likely to entertain yourself in ways that can only be described as unreal! And this will annoy me! And prolong the process for me!

Conversely, if you are the only one in the entire bathroom, and there are 3 stations of either sort, do not go straight for the middle one. This will inevitably cause a newcomer to have to come relieve himself next to you within seconds. If you had gone to either side, you would be safe. Unless the newcomer is a numbskull and cozies up next to you.

What does this have to do with the schmuck I mentioned earlier? Well, he's always going to the bathroom when I am, regardless of whether we're there for the watershow or the mudbath. We are on the same schedule. And he is always at the middle station.

If I am at the stand-up station, he comes in next to me. If I come in to use the stand-up station, he is always in the middle. Even if I come into an empty bathroom, head to the farthest left sit-down station, and I proceed to relieve myself in the stand-up fashion, said moron will come and also partake in stand-up activity, in the stall right next to me.

People, the object of bathroom etiquette is to position yourself as far away from the others in the bathroom as possible. Preferably near the exit. If there is someone at the far right station, try to use the far left. If there are two stand-up stations, but one of them is taken and all the other stations are empty, go ahead and use the sit-down station. If there are three stations, and there is someone in the middle, and you must go, use the one on the side nearest the exit. And if you ever face yourself with every station being filled but the stall in the middle, just turn the hell around and go back.

Immediately, though, this article is only meaningful to my arch-nemesis. So, until he stops squatting in the middle stall, jumping next to me when he sees me handling business, or his biological clock evolves, I'm going to have to stick to drinking less water and doing the hand-washing trick whenever I see him in there.

The tenets of this article can be summed up in a visually-pleasing, hilarious online flash quiz at http://www.jenai.com/. If you are smarter than me, you can find out where it went and how to contact them to get it.