Stories From The Urinal. Part One.

A quick recap here, as it's been so long since I posted the opener to this mini series. To be honest with you I just want to move on, I have so much more to write about. In hindsight it was a stupid idea - to write a series of posts detailing my thoughts whilst urinating, and quite frankly disgusting. This blog is going downhill. I thought about simply erasing the previous post and just pretending the whole sordid affair never happened, but someone may have noticed. There is also the remote possibility that one of you readers were actually looking forward to it, perhaps you're a doctor specialising in urology and psychiatry for example. As I cannot take the risk of offending one of my precious readers I feel I need to continue regardless of my opinion, and deliver as promised, a selection of my thoughts at the urinal.

I'll make it as brief as possible.


I'd just left my table in a relatively nice restaurant to visit the toilet / bathroom / restroom / lavatory / loo. (Just catering for our American friends.) Before I left I requested the bill. My waitress promptly returned with a saucer in one hand and a slip of paper detailing the cost of my meal in the other. With a false smile she placed the saucer on the table in front of me, then the bill on top, taking care to position the bill face down.

Now why did she do this? Why do all restaurants do this? The bill has been placed face down in order to prevent me from seeing it. It's my bill! I'm the one who ordered the food, I'm the one who is going to have to pay for it. I accepted those terms before I entered the restaurant. I knew what I was getting myself into. Why would you go out of your way to conceal some information which I'm inevitably about to see?

I find it all very strange.