I attended an art gallery opening today, for community artists, who had taken the initiative of hanging some of their locally-relevant work in the public toilets as well.
So when I sat down on the porcelain expecting to read my usual public education literature about STDs and domestic violence, instead I was affronted by slightly surreal salmon-pink oysters and split pomegranates.
A few hours later, at the event dinner, when I asked the art coordinator if she was having a lend she looked at me with a surprisingly innocent & bemused expression for a mother of two - but her husband spat his red wine all over the tablecloth.
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