Because, frankly, I hardly ever write stuff about going to the toilet

Because, frankly, I hardly ever write stuff about going to the toilet

Time to make a phone call.

"Hello? Is that the Premises Operations department?"

"Yes. Yes it is. How can we help you?"

"I've got a complaint. No, actually… it’s less of a complaint, more of an observation."

"OK, shoot."

"Don't tempt me."

A brief, terrible pause.

"Well?"

"This is a ten storey office block, right? How come every single gents' toilet is closed for cleaning?"

"Ah. Well. That's the way the cookie crumbles at this time of the morning, in't it? Got to admire their efficiency, though."

"I suppose one must, though a bit of coordination wouldn't go amiss."

"I'm sure they won't take long, sir."

"Yeah - about that. Could you send a mop and bucket to the tenth?"

"You disgust me."

"I couldn't get a window open in time."

"You disgust me."

"And the sandwich trolley girl's slipped in it."

"This call is over."

"Covered from arse to ti…"

+++ CLICK +++

Honestly, you can't get the staff.