icky

An interesting thing happened to me today. Well, I say interesting but really I mean uncomfortable. We've all used public toilets at some stage in our lives and in particular most will have used toilets in a work environment. I have used one many times at work, which comes as no surprise. However, today was a new experience. I'm sure most people are familiar with the warm toilet seat. The sign that someone else sat there very recently doing the same thing you are about to do. On a cold day the warm toilet seat is actually a comfort. Someone else has endured the chill and now you get to do your business in a more comfortable way. The seat warmer is normally anonymous, which is the way it should be. Not today. I sauntered into the toilet as one does. It was empty apart from one colleague. brief pleasantries were exchanged, the raised eyebrow hello that men are known to do in such situations. Not too formal, not too commital and cool enough to avoid serious contact in the confines of a male toilet. I entered one of the stalls. Now I don't have a particular avourite of the the three stalls but I do favour either end one. So I chose the nearest one on the left while my fellow co-worker began to dry his hands. (we are very civilised you see, washing hands afterwards. The ladies would be surprised how often this happens). The alarm bells started ringing when, as I was undoing my belt, I noticed the cistern was still re-filling after a fresh flush. I paused. It was then that the stench, the nausiating putridity of a stinker assulted my elfin nostrils. I swayed, ever so slightly. The full horror of the situation hit me. I knew who had done it. I had just met the man who's eau d'job I was breathing and who's buttocks had no doubt heated the seat. Ordinarily I would have continued were it not for lack of anonimity and the smell. These added components were too much. Often there is a slight hint in the air of the previous expulsion but this time I was tasting it in the back of my throat and I could not bring myself to sit and complete my business. So I waited and listened. Standing like a statue until my freind left. Then I dashed, scurried, hurried if you will, to switch to the furthest stall and away from the horror. Thankfully no-one came in as I did so. I did not need to explain my behaviour or ignore the quizzical look. I strode the few feet and closed the door behind me. This new stall was perfect. The seat was even slightly luke-warm. I could relax. I did.