Wrong Place; Wrong Time

 

 On Monday Mrs. Chatterbox’s car was in the shop so I drove her to work. She’s employed by the police department in our town and across the street from where she works is an outdoor mall. Later that day I arrived too early to pick her up for the drive home so I ambled across the street to kill time. As it happened, while wandering through the shops I received a call from nature and followed signs to a public restroom in a far-off corner of the mall’s courtyard. I was about to have a most unpleasant close encounter. Read about it (here).