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The other night, several Gawker correspondents went to the Lower East Side's latest un-secret venue, the Back Room. The bar is owned by Tim Robbins, and he's usually there, slinging drinks and flirting with waitresses. There's a sort-of hidden VIP room in the back of the Back Room (which, y'know, is the real "back room"); civilians are denied access unless they know the password. Naturally, this is where all of Robbins' famous friends go to hide from the likes of you. There's one major drawback to the VIP room, however, and that's the lack of bathroom. So if a luminary needs to break the seal, he has to venture back out amongst the unwashed masses and use the plebeian urinals.

On the night in question, the famous friend hiding in the room-behind-the-room was our favorite cranky actor and one-man hurricane rescue team, the lovely Sean Penn. Inevitably, he had to emerge from the VIP to hit the men's room amongst the commoners. One of our correspondents happened to be heading there at the same time, but as soon as Penn entered the then-empty facilities, security refused to allow anyone else in the bathroom until he was finished. Yes, that's right: Oscar winner Sean Penn must pee in solitude.

You can laugh, but don't attribute this to typical celebrity arrogance. As we understand it, Sean and his recently deceased brother Chris had a very tender sword-crossing ritual. In the days since his death, tinkle time has become a time for quiet reflection.