Coming home yesterday I was embarrassed by a creaky railing seat.
They have them at bus stops, to make sure you don't sit there for any longer than you have to. Works for keeping the local yoof away from bus shelters, not so well for genuine passengers trying to catch buses which regularly run late.
Anyway, as I sat down the bench thingy gave an almighty squeaky groan.
The only way I can describe it was the sound of a loud suppressed fart which someone had tried to squeeze out quietly, but failed.
Certainly the man next to me thought so. He stared at me, and shuffled down the bench.
Now I know my sphincter was 100% shut, so it's not like there was a smell.
What made me smile afterwards was that he bum-slid towards an old man who really smelled of wee.
I know because after Mr Disgusted got on his bus, the old man came up to me to ask for a bite of my sandwich.
I gave him what I had. Partly because I was forcing it down anyway, partly because if you have to ask a stranger for a bite of a sandwich you must be in desperate straits (if a stranger asks you for your shirt etc)
And sorry, bruises, cold sores and all, I still wouldn't want to have a sandwich back after someone else had had a bite.
Leeds. Nice.
So, slightly dark humour, but I reviewed it in my mind later and giggled.
Just because you have a suit and a briefcase, doesn't mean you have a sense of smell
