Toilets
Toilets are weird half public/half private spaces. All sorts of stuff goes on in them. They are devious entrances and exits from venues, places to have sex, to snort drugs or even, get this, to defecate. Tell us your favourite toilet stories.
( , Fri 2 Sep 2005, 11:11)
Toilets are weird half public/half private spaces. All sorts of stuff goes on in them. They are devious entrances and exits from venues, places to have sex, to snort drugs or even, get this, to defecate. Tell us your favourite toilet stories.
( , Fri 2 Sep 2005, 11:11)
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The horror, god the horror.
It would have been Year 6 in Primary school. Sat in a maths lesson, a kid in the year below put his hand up and asked to go to the loo. Teacher let him.
About 30 minutes later he reappears looking ashen-faced. Teacher asks if he's ok, he says he's fine. Very quiet for the last half of the lesson though.
Leaving for break, we find the reason why. There's a strange smell radiating from the boy's loos, and at that time there were no doors, you could look right in, though there were doors on stalls.
My male friends wander in and come back out again with a look of utter horror I have not seen again to this day.
They dragged me in to look, and the kid had somehow managed to shit all over the cubicle. All over the seat, door, walls and floor.
It was beyond horrendous.
The best bit was leaving that day to find our headteacher hunched over in the cubicle, marigolds on, up to her elbows in liquid shit because the caretaker was away on holiday.
( , Mon 5 Sep 2005, 15:01, Reply)
It would have been Year 6 in Primary school. Sat in a maths lesson, a kid in the year below put his hand up and asked to go to the loo. Teacher let him.
About 30 minutes later he reappears looking ashen-faced. Teacher asks if he's ok, he says he's fine. Very quiet for the last half of the lesson though.
Leaving for break, we find the reason why. There's a strange smell radiating from the boy's loos, and at that time there were no doors, you could look right in, though there were doors on stalls.
My male friends wander in and come back out again with a look of utter horror I have not seen again to this day.
They dragged me in to look, and the kid had somehow managed to shit all over the cubicle. All over the seat, door, walls and floor.
It was beyond horrendous.
The best bit was leaving that day to find our headteacher hunched over in the cubicle, marigolds on, up to her elbows in liquid shit because the caretaker was away on holiday.
( , Mon 5 Sep 2005, 15:01, Reply)
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