Re: Tipping the guy that hands out the towels in those fancy bathrooms
1980, my first trip across the pond, I am 20 years old, and just married.<br /><br />After some hours of walking London and I step into a public toilet to whiz.<br />About half way through the whiz, this old guy comes up behind me, reaches over my shoulder and presses the flush lever. <br /><br />"What the F, is this?" I am thinking. Like I am going to have to zip up early and punch this old guy out, or something.<br /><br />I turn and look at him: but he is politely looking away and proceeds to press the lever again. All I could do was turn back around and stare at the wall, like a dumb tourist, until done.<br /><br />He "flushes" one last time. I zip and quickly split. As I am leaving I see this little card table in the corner all set up with little combs, towels and stuff, along with an open box that had some money in it. <br /><br />I thought he was some wack-o that enjoyed hanging out in toilets and was also trying to make a few bucks in the process. <br /><br />Telling the story later that night, I learn that that is his job, and that I was suppose to pay him something for his efforts. It took awhile for me to believe it.<br /><br />22 years later I still laugh about it. That poor guy having to deal with ugly Americans like me all the time, right there in that little well kept toilet.<br /><br />1 pound 50, Bobber head.
