Bathroom Etiquette

I am officially calling securrity on all these little kids who have no respect for public bathrooms. Earlier today, My boyfriend and I went to a little sandwich shop to pick up some food. We were finished placing our orders and I decided to make use of my time wisely by using the fece-ilities.
I walk into a quiet bathroom, practically empty except for someone making use of the handicap stall, appropriately of course! I walk in to the only other stall and find one of the cleanest toilets available to paying customers at a public, casual establishment. No need to line the seat with toilet paper, I thought, this one looks like it was cleaned right before I walked in. Maybe they knew I was coming!
I quickly pull down my pants and as I am getting ready to sit down, the bathroom door storms open and three loud rug rats walk in louder than necessary. The one storms into the handicap stall just as the man occupying it is exiting and the other makes a failed attempt to enter the stall I have claimed to be mine. Their friend stands at the door, a newly appointed door man, or so one would think by his eagerness to hold the door open. All the patrons outside the bathroom could now see the interior of the men's bathroom, finally answering that age-old question; Are there really couches in there?
The two making proper use of the bathroom were mid conversation upon entering the bathroom and found no reason to pause. "Do you think the cops will fine me?" asked the one using the stall. Nevermind his volume, the other participant in this conversation was a whole stall away, me being the lucky accidental eavesdropper. I decided that this whole situation made me very uncomfortable and a little butt-shy, so I pulled up my pants and flushed the toilet. I walked out to find the door man not much taller than the handle on the door he was holding open. A smile on his face said he was glad to witness me walking out after attempting to drop a deuce. His friend at the stall looks out, still urinating, to see who it was laying a log. I walk over to the sink and wash my hands, still feigning that I had actually done something while sitting on the toilet. The long-distance conversation continued as I walked out, still unsure as to whether I should tip the doorman.
These little kids, who will one day be old enough to understand the necessity of a bathroom, need to be stopped! Take a whiz, take a shit, I don't care. Just use the bathroom for what it is intended for and leave. No need to start a social club within the walls of a lavatory. That's what outhouses are for!