Roughly ten years ago, I walked into a public men's room and there was an old man in there standing in front of a urinal, with both arms raised and pressed against the wall, as if taking advantage of this downtime to take a brief upper-body nap. Frightened, I quickly left the men's room and told the story to all my friends. We laughed at the weird old man and his old man ways. A decade passed, and last Friday I walked into the empty men's room at work and stood before a urinal. It had been a tough week. And I was exhausted. Before I knew it, my hands were raising and I slowly leaned against the wall in front of me. Quickly realizing what I had done, I lowered my hands and became instantly ashamed. I have become that which I scoffed.