The People You Meet

I went back to the alma mater to see Barack Obama tell me exactly how and why I am wasting my life and my intellectual promise. It was pretty okay. But that's not what I want to tell you about. What I want to tell you is a story about another man. A man I met in a public bathroom. (I guess this is where most of my good stories happen and/or where I spend a good portion of my life.)

So it goes down something like this.
Following the ceremony with no end (but plenty of snipers), I had to pee in a pretty bad way. This may have had something to do with the iced coffee, orange juice and 3 bottles of water I drank that morning to combat my hangover and avert potential heatstroke. Anyway. When I finally got to the restroom, it was empty except for a well-dressed elderly man who was shuffling around with a long strip of paper towel wound around his shoe. Since I really had to go to the bathroom, this man didn't really register in my mind as something weird. Until he turned around and stood next to me at the urinal. And not, "using the next urinal" next to me, but "elbowed me in the side and misdirected my stream" next to me. And then he just stood there and watched me finish. And when I was done, he shuffled some more.
He was completely silent the entire time.

As my dear beloved Edward said when I walked out of the bathroom in a daze and told this story to him and his dear beloved mother, this is the sort of thing that could only happen to me. (That's what Edward said. His mother just gave me the ol' stink eye.)

Which is true, I guess. But it looked like that gentleman had been in there for a while. So what I'm getting at is that this was a high-traffic bathroom. And I couldn't have been the only person in desperate need of the facilities following Commencement. Someone else must have experienced this man. This man must be someone's lost grandfather.
Please leave any leads you may have in the comments.