The walls of the public toilets in our seaside town were three-foot thick. Amazing the call came through.
“Call you back… CALL YOU BACK.”
Her voice reverberated through the cubicles; toilet flushed, then… silence. I finished and opened my cubicle door.
“CAN’T HEAR YOU, I’M IN THE LOO…”
There she was, beach paraphernalia around her, phone-to-ear, blocking two sinks. “Sorry, just going.” She struggled out with her load, phone to her ear. Parting shot, “YEAH, MY DIARRHEA’S BETTER…”
Reasons to love living in a seaside town No373.