Everybody who went to the Bruno Mars concert shared their blurry photos on social media to prove they were there. Here’s me with the blurry stage in the back. Here’s my blurry hand pointing to the blurry fireworks. Here’s a blurry me and my blurry friends making blurry tipsy shakas. Chee-hoo. Best concert ever. Best night ever. Bruno is da man.

Then a little time passed and the buzz wore off, and some little secret truths started slipping out about that perfect concert being maybe not so perfect.

Not Bruno and his band. Everyone said they were fantastic. The concert was epic. Even the dreaded traffic wasn’t too dreadful.

But the bathrooms. Wow. Girl. Please. Somebody gotta do something about the bathroom situation at Aloha Stadium because when big acts like Bruno Mars or Snoop Dog and Cardi B come to town, nobody wants to buy hundred­-hundred-dollar tickets and then waste any concert time standing in line for 45 minutes to save their kidneys.

The line for the women’s restrooms stretched down and down. Worse than any DMV line. Worse than any TSA line. Worse because it’s not just waiting, it’s anxious waiting, and there’s something much, much better going on, something world class, best ever, once in a lifetime that is being missed.

So they went for it. They rebelled. They broke ranks and invaded the men’s bathroom. No shame, just go.

This was not covered in the concert Instagram frenzy. This was not part of the “I’M AT THE CONCERT” social media bragging. But afterward, people talked about it. Yes they did. They talked among their friends and co-workers. The women talked about being so full up and fed up and out of options that they barreled into the men’s inner sanctum and headed straight for the stalls with nothing but the war cry, “FOR BRUNO!” ringing in their heads. The men talked about it like they were witness to something powerful and primal, like a herd of lionesses taking over the watering hole.

Apparently, some lady lions didn’t even bother with the stalls. There were reports of women going straight for the trough urinals and men, moved by respect and intimidation, ceding their space.

“One guy told me this one lady stood next to him to pee. He felt too uncomfortable to pee, so he left,” said John Min, who tried to be helpful by telling men to enter through the exit and to leave the entrance for the growing line of women.

At one bathroom, Luana Alapa was the first to go for it. “I couldn’t hold it for the life of me, and I didn’t care what guys were in line or inside. I just told ’em, ‘No worry, I seen dat before!’ and lucky they were cool and laughed. Only had like couple, three guys. The moment I walked out of the men’s room, there was a loooong line of women at the men’s!”

For those with stadium floor seats, the walk to the unisex, single-seater portable bathrooms was long and unlit. Then there were issues with supplies of concert T-shirts far below demand, and concessions offering low-end hot dogs and pizza but few upscale options. By Saturday night, bathroom attendants were in place to keep people moving, and by Sunday the situation wasn’t quite as bad.

But there has to be a mathematical formula that factors in the attendance divided by the number of potties multiplied by the amount of beer sold that equals to Aloha Stadium needing more bathrooms for big events like Bruno Mars.

Reach Lee Cataluna at 529-4315 or lcataluna@staradvertiser.com.