The good ol' mass feed lot piss trough at stadiums of old were an even worse dilemma when they weren't busy, but when they WERE busy, you knew you were going to be shoulder to shoulder (well, I was small when they went away, my eyes were weiner-level) with the salt of the earth, probably drunk as a lord

What made it not a big deal was that we were a 90% White country and any minorities at these places were TINY minorities at the time. Every guy there knew they were in the same boat so there was a polite camaraderie

It ended because of the usual suspects

Imagine totally wasted dudes with mullets spitting the butt out of their lips into the pisswater, then blasting it with a massive torrent of frothy corn squeezins stadium beer urine, then shuffling to make room for a little kid and directing the stream just enough away that he doesn't feel like the pee is HEADED HIS WAY

I have a distinct memory of a guy with waist length curly brown hair in grease-splattered jeans (that would have been made in America), work boots and a pack of Marb Reds in his rolled-up white t-shirt with gnarly tattoos saying to me, "Belly up to the trough, little dude. See if you can hit that butt"

I love my people

RT: https://poa.st/objects/bda2471f-2871-42d8-97b4-ac93f1cf0ecc