This story contains aliens and my genitalia...

I want to believe... Image by technokitten via FlickrI looked down at my penis, trying to mind my own business.

 Yes, I'm using that as my opening line. 

 The man, thankfully, didn't seem to be focusing on the aforementioned penis, but he did keep looking up at me. slowly, he began to sidle towards me, hopping from urinal to urinal until he was in my personal space. I was nervous now, unable to finish and regretting using the train station bathroom.

 "Psst!" He whispered loudly, "I'm an alien!"

 I wasn't particularly worried. I mean, this wasn't the first time this had happened to me.

 "Ok" I replied, non-committally.

 "Want to make first contact?" He asked, gesturing to a cubicle with his thumb.

 "No. Thank you for the offer," I replied, "but I have to attend a conference of salesmanship."

 "Well, no worries." He replied cheerfully, doing up his fly and wandering off.

 I finished up and washed my hands. Curiously, I wandered over to the stall and looked inside. A team of small green men in silver jumpsuits looked back at me, then continued to scan the toilet with alien devices. After a few minutes, they huddled together to discuss something in private, throwing me furtive glances and whispering. Eventually, one of the group was pushed forward and spoke reluctantly:

 "Are you here to fix the printer?"

 "No." I replied. I considered lying, but I don't really know the first thing about printer repair.

 "Oh, ok then. Goodbye!" he replied. With that, they shut the toilet cubicle door in my face.

 I thought about catching up with the peeing alien and changing the future of mankind, but he hadn't washed his hands before leaving the bathroom. Instead, I went home via the canal. It was a pleasant walk, with the sun shining down, and I saw a duck.