Let’s be honest, dear readers. Fourth floor men’s room is a pretty nice place.
This is the men’s room that is most frequently used but the men whose names are on the building. That sort of clientele means that you’re not usually going to find a rogue deposit sitting around unattended. That’s why this men’s room is a destination of choice for those with discriminating tastes.
But even fourth floor men’s room is not immune to the occasional bio-terror attack.
This morning, upon opening the door to fourth floor men’s room, Potty Blogger’s nose was assaulted with what can only be described as...tuna fart.
Not one of those personal serving snack size cans of tuna. We’re talking about one of those I-own-a-small-sandwich-shop-down-on-Kearny-and-go-to-Costco-for-those-bigger-than-your-head-cans of tuna.
It was a smell that made me feel bad for both tuna and farts.
Be strong, friends. Be strong.