toilets

channelling my inner Larry David I seem to have recently become more intimate with toilets. As described in my last post I got a new job. In my previous job, I would cycle to work and change in the disabled toilet as it was the only room large enough to be able to do so.
And how did I obtain a new job? Well, I left work early one day to go to an interview, carrying in my bad a suit. But not early enough to get changed in the spacious disabled toilet, instead running for a train. I got on the train only to find the toilet was bang out of order. There was a second toilet on the train, the size of a toy train, with a broken cupboard exposing the electrics, and urine all over the floor. I even started trying to get changed before giving up to avoid soaking my soaks in someone else's piss.

I arrived at Waterloo station looking for the station toilets. They charge 30p which I would have happily paid if I could be sure there were showers to change in. And if I had any change on my which I don't. They should really accept bank cards and/or oyster.

So I took the tube to my interview, exiting the station with a good 10 minutes to spare. And dressed super unsmartly. I found a local coffee shop and asked if I could use their toilet as i had a job interview. I think the lady took pity on my, even though I didn't really look like a homeless man, and let me use their excellent one room facility. And then I got the job.

I was told it was a one hour interview, which of course lasted two hours, preventing me from having the telephone job interview which I had set up for afterwards. Luckily they cancelled it about 20 minutes before it was due to start and never called back.