Restroom Etiquette and Design

Today I went to a local burger joint. It just opened up, and it is pretty spectacular. I'm not sure if it's really as great as I think it is, or if our little hamlet was just that badly in need of a good burger, but either way, it's pretty spectacular.

Unfortunately, I had to duck into the restroom today, where I discovered that it is roughly the size of your average janitorial supply closet. The door opens out, but I still found myself nearly walking directly into a gentleman who was washing his hands. I mumbled an apology and slid between him and the door to find that the restroom looked like this:
Please note that "privacy wall" is not labeled anywhere on this diagram. I mean, there's a stall wall, but the urinal is just out in the open. Also, because this image is top down, what I cannot show you is that the urinal is one of those creepy models that extends all the way down to the floor. Between the urinal type, the lack of privacy, and the closed quarters, there was absolutely no way to use this restroom without feeling like I was walking up beside a complete stranger and relieving myself on the floor right next to him.

Of course, I waited until he left, but then I realized something else: Other people might need to go to the bathroom. Sure enough, someone did.

There are Rules in the Men's Room. Rules of etiquette, protocol, and decency. Rules that are driven almost entirely by a collective deep-seated anxiety. Whatever their root, I'm happy as long as they're being followed. I am comfortable with deep-seated anxiety. I understand it. This guy (I assume it was he because it was a Men's Room; but I sure as hell wasn't making eye contact, so I guess I don't know for sure) clearly knew the rules as well, because he made a beeline for the stall, rather than wait for me. Of course, that meant having to position myself to accommodate his changing perspective.

Of course, I left as soon as possible, according to the Rules.

Now, I know that I've got some quirks when it comes to my privacy in this situation. But even so, this seems like some staggeringly poor design, and I can only think about what sort of neanderthal mind conceived it. Maybe it's someone who's simply impractical, but I like to think it's someone who's brazenly immodest, the kind of person that starts acting hammered after a beer and a half as an excuse to start removing clothing. That or someone who, like Thomas Kinkade, Painter of Light, believes strongly in "ritual territory marking." and is looking for a socially acceptable way of recreating that feeling.

Either way, there you have it. This restroom was designed either by an incompetent or pervert. Frankly, I'm hoping for pervert. It would be nice to know that someone gained something out of my misery.