Broken water closets matter not in the scheme of things. Switching from one set to another a mere formality and a good reason for not having unisex toilets. Stark differences indeed between that of the men's and women's toilets.
A simple trough, a bin and two stalls take centre pride in the men's. A broken and hard to squeeze soap box the king toward the door before the paper towels.
Over in the other land, and where the plumbing remains remarkably unscathed from whatever affected the men's, a world removed.
Understandably, no trough. Toothbrushes, however, along with scented candles and a fully giving soap dispenser, present an entirely different experience. Smells, where none exists in the men's (magically so), prove pleasantly jarring. And for their location, a little bit disturbing. No wish to spend more time sniffing the air in there after all.
Returning to the chair, soiled with a hefty tub of yoghurt two weeks ago by the creative two bays away, brings it all back into place. A large expanse of bleaching white, not of bleach, like sitting atop a patch in the carpet where the toothpaste has fallen into one big glob.
Soon Van - Friday, 2 June 2006 - 12:12
*Optional and not kept. Read the privacy policy for more.
Order Soon Van
Creativity starves insanity