Monday, June 18, 2012
The Trip Stop
Weird but not as amusing as the man excercising his dog, a dog who obviously needed a little more than exercise when it decided to take its own toilet break in the middle of the car park surrounded by families and a coach load of tourists now trying to gag their way through packed lunches. That was mildly amusing but not as amusing as when he bent down to clean it up as his phone popped put of the top pocket and bounced dangerously close to the aforesaid dollop. There followed a scene out of a thousand movies similar to a hero defusing a bomb as he tried to remove his phone without getting anything on him, the phone or his clothes, all done in glorious slo-motion and from a safe distance (arms length). He nearly got a round of applause until he capped it all and spoilt the scene by sniffing the phone at the end.
In their heyday motorway services quickly became a destination for the motorist, indeed, at the start they were the only place to be seen in on the new tangled motorway system that wowed the UK. Today though, it's a different matter as we wandered it's noise filled arcade machine corridors amazed that they now only offer only the basics at inflated prices which I suppose you should now only expect from a place with a captive audience. But it was still buzzing, albeit in a zombie kind of way as families shuffled their way through the halls stopping occasionally to consume a burger, individuals looked shifty and furtive, truck drivers looked, well, trucky, foreign tourists looked amazed and disgusted all at the same time and occasionally a member of staff rushed through looking rather worried after receiving a report of a foreign object in cubicle three. And as always you get a squirt of air fresher to the back of the head from those automatic dispensers as you walk in the toilets, why do they do that? Do I really smell that much that a waft of faux pine is needed?
I suppose it's a bit like the eBay of the soul, lots of people coming through the door in an unending random listing each with their own agenda, story and reason for being there in the first place. I could go on but instead I will leave you with this, urinals are not for sitting on. Try telling that to the gentleman I found perched on one not three feet from myself.
How will he explain the ring on the back of his trousers I will never know.