Drop pots

Sooner or later, people who partake in human habits such as food with me will learn that even with the most delicious of meals there is a finite probability that I will have a hideous reaction and have to dash directly to the bathroom; do not pass go, do not collect £200.

On one such charming occasion recently, I had been eating at a favourite noodle bar and had to walk, jog then sprint back to the observatory, calling apologies to my friends. I tumbled into the canteen building and over to the restrooms, before half crawling through a cubicle door and ....

... oh thanks Japan. NOW you choose not to give me a sophisticated lavatory experience but a hole in the ground.

Somewhere up above, I swear there was laughter.