Eau de toilette

I went to the toilet today, for a wee.
The end.


No, not really. That's just the beginning. So, there I was, sitting... as one does... when I noticed a small nondescript box under the basin. I've never seen the box before so, being catlike in nature, I picked it up. It was heavy, and floral and pink. I flipped it upside down (remember, still sitting on the loo) to investigate further. Turns out it was liquid soap - and it was open.

Unfortunately, I only realised this after I had released a few gallons of hand soap directly into the crotch of my pants. Not a problem - I'll just wipe it out with wet toilet paper. Undiluted soap + water... you can see this going wrong, can't you? I didn't.

Not only was my crotch reeking of lavender, now it was also looking rabid and foaming to boot.

I figured my two options were: remove pants entirely and rinse. Or attempt to wipe area dry with paper towels and deal with it later. I went for the latter. Reeking of toilettey freshness, I eventually made a beeline for my desk and remained there until it was time to put on my overcoat.

I think I just brought a whole new level to the term, feminine hygiene.