Pop, crack, tinkle. The noise of me having a leak in the
White Horse pub on Brixton Hill. Went for a couple of wet ones with a departing
workplace colleague. My colleague, Anna, qualified as a full blown British Sign
Language Interpreter this summer; recently she succeeded in finding a job in
her chosen field. Well done Anna. The BSLI’s gain is our loss.
With a neurogenic bladder it doesn’t take long before the
call of the loo comes. It didn’t help with me drinking a triple espresso and a
strong Americano coffees earlier in the day.
(Note to self: avoid coffee on days you’re going for a beer.
Reminder to self: remember to look at this Blog on days you’re going for a
beer.)
We used the pub because I knew they had an ‘accessible’
toilet. However, on arriving at the WC armed with my Radar key I noticed a
large beer keg gas bottle. This wasn’t a problem for me as it stood to one side
of the toilet bowl. Opening the door wider I noticed boxes stacked at the back
of the toilet. Around 16 boxes of GLASSES!
Having locked the door, had a pee and arranged myself back
in my wheelchair I began a 33 point turn. As I began reversing I heard; POP!
Followed by CRACK! Followed by TINKLE! With each manoeuvre the same riff.
When I told the bar worker she looked aghast. She apologised
before asking whether there were any breakages to which I informed her in the affirmative.
Who the fuck leaves glasses in an adapted toilet? Mops,
cleaning paraphernalia, spare chairs and Christmas trees I can kind of see how
people pub people would abuse adapted toilets this way. But glasses?
What’s the strangest thing with which you’ve shared an
adapted toilet?
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