Haud oan...
You're in a dingy, disgusting gents bog, separated from other guys shiteing/pishing, in a cubicle and trying to do the Spiderman one-off-the-wrist. I can picture it.
But how did the next part go? Trying to picture standing at a urinal, say, and some guy is locked in a cubicle making suspicious sounds. Then the guy leaves the cubicle - wee sample cup in hand - heads out the bogs, and returns with a woman in tow and they lock themselves in the same cubicle. And the suspicious noises resume. Is that it?
And some say romance is dead...