Toilet stories

Rob requests toilet stories, and so shall he receive:

1. The Cairnpapple toilet story (history student etc. was a tale of jobbiness in more ways than one. R. was bursting as we arrived, but delayed her relief with my promise of the chemical toilet in the back area of the information Nissen Hut. She's a proper lady, you know, and prefers to pee in sanitary conditions, unlike some.

Anyways, on arrival at the Nissen Hut we're keen to pay up admission at the Nissen Hut, not least to gain access to the saniloo. A sweet-faced young graduate is warden, but (crucially) receiving a visit/ inspection from his Big Boss as we arrive. We stump up admission, buy a guidebook (!) and then request use of the facilities.

The Warden's eyes dart first between R. and Big Boss, then upward to his right visual field as he remembers the H&S lectures, and states carefully that there are no toilet facilities available to the public. R. says she needs to use a loo, and asks what he suggests- peeing outside behind the Hut? Warden says he can't recommend this option either, but has no alternative suggestions.

Thankfully at this point the Big Boss interceded to say that in the circumstances R. could be permitted to use the staff loo, to everyone (especially R's) relief.

When we came back to the Hut after the tour, full of beans and questions, Big Boss had left and the Warden was full of apologies about the earlier exchange. A student of modern US History and a wee charmer, his history expertise was only 4,000 years out.

2. This story is not mine to tell, but:

A friend, while travelling recently in Italy, took lunch at a railway hotel during a stop in her train journey. After some initial friction with the maitre d' over table size and water ordered, my friend had enjoyed her meal. The maitre d' then made up these misunderstandings with her, and then whispered in her ear that maybe they could meet in the toilets....?

Italian is not her best European language, and I suspect it took some time before she properly apprehended the true humanitarian nature of his offer. As she paid and left, maitre' was still signalling upstairs with head gestures, so there was no dubiety to his intent.

As I texted at the time, clearly this gentleman's kind proposition proved he was one of the world's last great romantics, and I can't believe that she managed to turn down this once in a lifetime opportunity for a toilet assignation, since apparently he was 'no' bad'.