canarlee
12th July 2007, 12:41
in my late teens i worked in the offices of the IAM, as a driver, runner and all around dogsbody. I drove the chief exec about, a lovely bloke called bob peters. i also looked after the building.
the IAM is a registered charity running on a limited budget and so they dont pay that well. consequently it was staffed at that time mainly by ladies between the ages of about 65 and 75. we had one lady working there who was well in her eighties, all part time, all looking like your favourite granny. they knew me as “that nice young man from the postroom.”
part of my duties led me into the ladies toilets on a regular basis, some of the building services were in there. i went into the end stall to get access to a service cupboard and what met my eyes in there changed my opinion of women, especially sweet little old ladies, for ever.
i would estimate it was well in excess of fourteen inches long. it was as straight as an arrow, black and around two inches in diameter. the outside of it was encrusted with all sorts of knobbly bits and I couldn’t imagine it inside any part of an adult female body, much less that of a lady of advancing years. for gods sake – it was nearly as big as some of the staff!
i couldnt just leave it there, but what could I do? i wasn’t going to touch it, the very idea made me want to wretch. i looked at it and it looked back, like some sort of challenger to my ingenuity. “deal with this then” it said with a lascivious grin on its imaginary face. dirty. this was too much for a young guy to deal with. all my childhood imagery of sweet little old ladies sucking boiled sweets and knitting had been shattered in an instant. it was almost like a sort of bereavement.
with it standing there in the toilet pan leaning on the back of the seat with clear daylight behind, an offence against womanhood - i did the only thing i could do. i attacked it with the toilet brush, almost unable to look as it snapped in two and disappeared around the bend while a flushed and flushed and flushed again. i was shaking. from that day to this, i have never seen a turd like it.
the IAM is a registered charity running on a limited budget and so they dont pay that well. consequently it was staffed at that time mainly by ladies between the ages of about 65 and 75. we had one lady working there who was well in her eighties, all part time, all looking like your favourite granny. they knew me as “that nice young man from the postroom.”
part of my duties led me into the ladies toilets on a regular basis, some of the building services were in there. i went into the end stall to get access to a service cupboard and what met my eyes in there changed my opinion of women, especially sweet little old ladies, for ever.
i would estimate it was well in excess of fourteen inches long. it was as straight as an arrow, black and around two inches in diameter. the outside of it was encrusted with all sorts of knobbly bits and I couldn’t imagine it inside any part of an adult female body, much less that of a lady of advancing years. for gods sake – it was nearly as big as some of the staff!
i couldnt just leave it there, but what could I do? i wasn’t going to touch it, the very idea made me want to wretch. i looked at it and it looked back, like some sort of challenger to my ingenuity. “deal with this then” it said with a lascivious grin on its imaginary face. dirty. this was too much for a young guy to deal with. all my childhood imagery of sweet little old ladies sucking boiled sweets and knitting had been shattered in an instant. it was almost like a sort of bereavement.
with it standing there in the toilet pan leaning on the back of the seat with clear daylight behind, an offence against womanhood - i did the only thing i could do. i attacked it with the toilet brush, almost unable to look as it snapped in two and disappeared around the bend while a flushed and flushed and flushed again. i was shaking. from that day to this, i have never seen a turd like it.