Stare Into Space

There are few things worse than a warm pan

Posted on | April 21, 2008 | 5 Comments

Sitting on a public toilet seat that has been pre-warmed by someone else is an unpleasant experience. For me anyway. I’m unable to make-believe that nobody has ever used the toilet before me. The evidence is there, in all its alien warmth.

Worse even than this though, is seeing the person that warmed it exit just before you need to go in. Even if they’re not a filthy grot-bag with arse and thigh-centric skin diseases, I still know what they were doing in there.

I don’t like a warm pan and I certainly don’t like knowing who warmed it.

Comments

5 Responses to “There are few things worse than a warm pan”

  1. clarissa
    April 21st, 2008 @ 21:22

    You’ve made me laugh two times today. The first time w/ your ‘outed’ comment … I’m still chuckling over that one. Good, heart-warming chuckling.

    This post also makes me laugh, but in a nervous, uncomfortable way. Like The Office. Erg.

  2. Trousers
    April 23rd, 2008 @ 7:27

    Perhaps I have a nervous and uncomfortable effect on women. It would explain a lot in my life.

    Maybe, if I can pad this out into a six-episode series, I can be as rich as Ricky Gervais. I’ve read that he has a solid gold house and that he demolished three of his neighbours’ properties in order to build a swimming pool, filled with the finest Cristal, in which he pays someone to swim laps as he can’t be bothered.

    I want that.

  3. Istvanski
    April 24th, 2008 @ 11:33

    We were talking about a similar subject last night, based on how I had to use the public lavs at London Victoria station. It didn’t really bother me as I was nearly touching cloth and my arse exploded upon making contact with the pan.

  4. rockmother
    May 4th, 2008 @ 17:14

    No no no – warm loo seats – no no NO! I hate pre-warmed plates too – aaaggghhh!

  5. Trousers
    May 6th, 2008 @ 7:16

    Ister: Turtle-heads will do that to a man.

    RM: Indeed.

Gerry Hayes

Gerry Hayes

I mostly sit around all day and drink tea. Occasionally, I write stuff and send it to strangers so they can humiliate me and debase my efforts. Other than the self-harm to dull the shame of failure, it's not a bad life. Like I say, there's tea.

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