Who Does That?

This a fair warning on content - it’s going to be somewhat scatological today so if that’s not your cup of tea (or you’re currently drinking a cup of tea), you may want to give this a miss. Don’t say I didn't warn you. 

So I was sitting in a cubicle in the loos at [WORKPLACE REDACTED] the other day (look, I did warn you, you can't get upset if you now have imagery that you weren’t hoping for). I hear someone enter the stall next to mine. Nothing unusual in this, this is a public facility after all. However, what is unusual is the next sound I hear. Nope, not those sounds, again that would be the expected thing in an area designed for the removal of waste products. No, I hear a rustling sound.

This isn’t the rustling sound made by clothing. This is the scratchy rustling of a packet being opened. More specifically, the sound of a packet of crisps being opened. I’ve been a consumer of potato-based crispy goodness for many a year now and I definitely recognise the sound of a packet of crisps being opened. 

Odd, thinks I. That can't be right, surely I’ve misheard and I’m imagining that someone next to me is opening crisps while sat on the toilet. Confirmation arrives, however, with the new sound that follows up on this original one. The sound of crunching that is unmistakably the noise of someone eating crisps.

It’s something that I am finding hard to fathom. I love a packet of crisps but I don’t love them that much that I would need to eat one while sitting with trousers lowered and surrounded by the smells of both liquid and solid effluence. I mean, it stinks in here and, as we all know, the word “stink” is not used to indicate smells of a pleasant nature. I’ve got a pretty strong stomach but these are not smells that I normally find conducive to eating. I am genuinely baffled by this.

The Phantom Cruncher finishes their crispy business and departs before I do so their identity is unknown. There is a small part of me that is curious, that wants to see this taboo-flouting barbarian with what is clearly a cast-iron stomach and possible anosmia. Overall, though, I’m pretty happy with this outcome. I don’t think I’d like to be walking around at [WORKPLACE REDACTED], only to walk into a meeting and come face to face the Toilet Crisp Eater. After all if this wild heathen is capable of eating while shitting, what else are they capable of? The mind boggles...