The credit card felt gritty against the plastic window in his wallet. Two luscious lines snaked across the toilet roll dispenser. Right boot against the door and right hand against the wall, he bowed to the job at hand. He loved how bars now provided two sizes of drink straw. The smaller fitted in his breast pocket snugly.
It always amused him that smoke detectors were installed in the toilets to detect smokers, when tens of grams disappeared up noses, right under their noses.
Fuckin ironic that.
Another cubicle door slammed shut not four away. A fumbled latch and a gutteral growl echoed off the tiles. What sounded like a projectile vomit suitably splashed and plopped in symphony with the growl.
" Someone could’nt stay the pace ", he thought.
Synapses now cooking, the doof doof seemed to appeal again. Daylight in one hour. Bed in one and a half.
in pub toilets near you now.