Wishful thinking

Yesterday’s post about the state of the loos in the Irish pub reminded me of the signs in the toilets at my work, which say ‘Please leave these toilets as you’d wish to find them.’ Hmm, leave the toilets as you’d wish to find them. That could be a bit tricky, because I’d like to find them with heated toilet seats. And soundproofing wouldn’t go amiss. I’d like a library containing all the Asterix books. Air freshening that smells of freshly cut grass. A flatscreen telly in the back of the door showing Only Fools and Horses would be nice. Whatever bog roll the Queen uses. That’s bound to be good stuff. Royally strong, royally soft and royally very, very long. I’d also appreciate a Smythson notepad and a pack of Edding 55’s. My pen of choice. Only ever black ink. A telephone with an anti-echo gizmo, so whoever you’re talking to won’t know you’re sat on the bog. This bin would be a nice touch. In a nod to Brian Wilson, I’d like the whole cubicle built in a sand pit. With a scaled down planetarium ceiling. A voice activated locking device would be handy, so you don’t even touch the door handle. And if there has to be graffiti on the walls, let it be Banksy. That’s how I’d like to find the toilets. Is that too much to ask for?