Letter to a local steak house from a disgruntled patron

I found myself in dire need of your Men's Room after my fifth Scotch Tonic (your 'tender, Rudy, knows a good pour is a fist and not two fingers worth of swilly goodness) and locomoted quickly to its Relieving Confines (with the prerequisite Clench quite noticeable in my Gait). You should know right off that I am Not one of those Modern Day Savages that doesn't Hesitate to use the Liquid Waste Trough found in your restaurant; a 'device' I firmly believe encourages Overt Displays of Sharing One's Genitalia and the Size/Strength of their Streams to any and all within eyeshot. A proper gentleman (and I assure you that I am one) does Not flaunt these Traits to their Relief Seeking Peers (or Pee-ers) and should always utilize, instead, the Privacy afforded by Stalls. Thank Goodness your fine (as I thought at this moment in time) establishment had one. Closing the door behind me and securing the latch I was Finally able to ease the distressing Kidney Processed Fluid pressure bearing down on my nether-regions; that is I thought I would be able to unleash my amber torrent...until I noticed my reflection (including my delicate grasp about my Seeing-A-Man-About-A-Horse-Noodle) in your Highly Reflective Choice of Wall Tiles. This stopped me Cold. Why in the World would anyone want to watch themselves urinate?!? What do you take your patrons for? Surely I have no Shame in my Equipment but I am NOT one to find some sick pleasure in watching my Body drain itself of its poisons. People that do should be locked up. Are these the Ilk of Humans you are Seeking to frequent your Place of Business?!? And you can forget suggesting to me that I should rectify this problem by sitting down to urinate; I am NOT a long-haul trucker nor of the Female Persuasion!!! I hereby request that the entirety of your Men's Room tiling be replaced Immediately or you will have lost my AND everyone I know/tell's patronage.