It was around four hours after chilli night at my local welding club, and the concoction of food and cheap beer swilling around in my centre was steadily moving south. I have touched cloth before and I was happy in the knowledge that if this were to happen again I would be emotionally equipped to deal with the aftermath and moderate amount of intimate cleaning. However as I turned onto Blythe road at around 23:46pm, Tuesday the 15th of august 2013, it had become apparent that after nearly an hour of what I call 'full clench' my Glutinous majors were beginning to cramp.
My brisk pace was now being hindered by a noticeable widening of the gate. My buttocks had been pushed together for so long I was experiencing considerable discomfort. My my mind was filling with unhelpful imagery, water treatment facilities and oil prospectors were now working against me, mentally loosening my sluice gate. As I made ground on the dark shape now just paces away I had one last horrifying thought; What If it was a news stand...
I wrenched the sliding door with the force of a thousand mad tigers. Efficacy of movement was everything now. The chilli had taken the fast route bypassing otherwise frequented stops it was speeding towards the buffers. As I rotated anticlockwise I bore my modesty, the buffers were smashed and my exit was hot and powerful. A concentrated semi solid start gave way to a geyser like eruption. I was producing a torrent. I grimaced as the spicy solution wore away at my sphincter, "How much did I eat?" The gushing ceased and I felt a cold rush as my colon replaced the payload with cold night air.
I remembered I hadn't raised the seat as soon as the internal sensation ended. I mopped the sweat from my brow, and began the process of re-clothing my lower half. My shaking hands grasped my suit trousers, now crumpled around my feet. Everything had been tainted. I had the overwhelming urge to apologise, my legs finally gave in and I dropped to my knees "I'm so sorry!" I yelled over, and over again.
Blythe road toilets saved me that evening.
I hope after some fairly thorough cleaning, perhaps even new fittings, this little green box of hope can save you too.