A Public Inconvenience

Great anxiety over the toilet noises he makes

A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do (Image by David Rinehart from Pixabay)

The silver Astra turned into the car park at the motorway services. Its sole occupant, thirty-seven-year-old Conrad, parked as far away from the building as was possible. He had been driving for two hours, and he needed to stretch his legs. The reason for his jaunt had been a trip to London to celebrate his sister’s fortieth birthday party.

As Conrad walked towards a pair of automatic doors, a breeze pressed his white shirt onto his back, and a patch of sweat felt cool against his skin. The sun was shining now, but he had driven through torrential rain just after setting off.

For it was mid-June, that time of year when the frequent downpours that occur are loved by crops in the fields, but not so much by those who suffer a soaking at fetes, funfairs and Wimbledon tennis matches, not to mention the occasional Glastonbury mud bath.

Conrad took his order, a burger with fries, a slice of carrot cake, and a large Americano coffee, at a table by the window. He devoured the food quickly, not having eaten that day, but he lingered over the coffee. His plan was for a thirty-minute break from driving, so he sipped, and observed the comings and goings of people outside.