Whistleblower

There’s a guy at work who insists on whistling out loud in the men’s room. Yep, he is the friggin Mary Poppins of the water closet.
I guess if it is acceptable to fart, then whistling is acceptable at the urinal and at the washbasin.
Still, I find it only slightly less annoying than people who talk on their cell phone while they are going about their business. Surely no matter can be so pressing that it needs to be discussed with your pants around your ankles or with your dick in your hand while people around you are doing their expunging rituals?
I thought of telling to him to shut up because my bladder cannot function properly when there are distractions in the room, but that would only make me seem sadder than he is. What is even more annoying is that the tune gets stuck in my head for the rest of the day.
Perhaps the act of peeing brings such joy to him that he can’t help but to let the whole world know.
This morning he was going about his business to the tune of James Morrison’s “You give me something“. I used to like that song. It is a great song. But not anymore.
I wonder if he uses that same technique when he does a number two. “Take my breath away” by Berlin comes to mind. Or how about that 80’s classic by Leo Sayer, “I feel a thunder in my heart“? (Although “thunder in my arse” would be more appropriate).