The lesser of two evils

If you're desperate enough, sometimes you've got to make some pretty difficult decisions. Some examples are whether or not to eat another person if stranded on a desert island, whether you're happy to try that little bit of milk in the bottom of the bottle because it's the last one, and finally and most importantly, which cubicle to take in a toilet.

Desperation is key to making split-second decisions, and defines just how much of a gamble they can sometimes turn out to be.

For example, take my situation the other day. I was busting, and I mean literally rupturing my bladder, for a pee. So off I dash to the toilet, fit to burst.

I storm into the gents only to be met by a green cloud of noxious fumes that could only be the product of someone else's emotional trauma some minutes previous.

The sheer stench is unquestionable. What is questionable however, is which cubicle is emitting it.

Time is short. You're unable to pause for thought. It's not possible to think, even if you had the time because one hundred per cent of your brain power is concentrating on keeping the flood gates closed.

So you make a decision. Or rather, I made a decision. And boy did I regret it.

Insecurity

Guess where I am? That's right, on the train.

Imagine that you're watching people board an already busy train, and that you're sat at a table seat with a seat spare next to you.

The train starts to populate, and you're sat on your tod expecting some smelly git to sit next to you.

But nobody does.

Is that because you're a smelly git? Is it because you look funny? Am I a serial killer now?

Tell you what, for nobody to sit next to you on a train that's packed, you've got to have something wrong with you.

Then someone sits next to you, and relief overwhelms you that you don't stink of fox urine. You don't look (too much) like a serial killer, and the fact of the matter is that 90% of the train haven't even noticed that you're acting slightly insecure.

Nobody else felt this on occasion? Nope? Just me.

Old lady perfume

What do women see in it? I walked past a woman smelling of it this morning, and it just reminds me of mouldy lavender.

What's wrong with a fragrance that's slightly more up-to-date?

Perhaps this isn't a smell that old people spray themselves with. Maybe when you get past the menopause, you instantly start emitting it.

Old women try to mask it with stronger fragrances, but the old lady smell keeps coming out.

As they get older, the smell fades, and is replaced by the smell of old mothballs.

That's it, I've concluded. It's not their fault, they just smell weird.

The schoolboy error

I commit a few errors of a schoolboy nature, but I thought that this one deserved the label about as much as any other error I've made.

As I have described in many other posts, our office building has a communal toilet consisting of 3 stalls. It's very intimate, and on occasions, very crowded.

One day, I walked into the toilet to be greeted by the most hideous stench coming from a newly vacated stall.

Without even thinking about the consequences, I exclaimed "Jesus Christ! That's disgraceful!".

I hear uncomfortable shuffling, and look to my left to see that one of the other stalls is occupied, and the occupant clearly believes that my comment was directed toward him.

I wasn't hanging around to cope with the awkward silence at the sink situation, so left sharpish.

You get the idea though.