I’m not exaggerating about the Kingdome. It was a brutalist wart on the face of Seattle. (And please note, I am using the term brutalist properly.) The men’s rooms were exactly as described in this comic, and the only thing that kept 50% of the people who came in from guessing wrong as to which trough they should start with was the fact that there was always a long line of dead-eyed men cycling through, demonstrating which trough was being used for what that day.
At that point in history, the Seattle teams that played in the Kingdome didn’t give their fans a lot of reason for joy or hope.
I don’t know what the ladies’ rooms were like.
Actually, I’m not sure there were any.