Horrific things you've found in public toilets.

I found a pair of socks in Tesco loo (tebourba way, Southampton) in a cubicle. I didn't investagate too closely but they didn't appear to have been used for arse wiping or worse (see @jarrod248 and snuggles).
Who has such an epic shit that you have to remove your socks, or they are removed by having a dump?
Someone using socks on hands whilst on the rob. Binned on premises so not on CCTV.
 
I was once desperate with a sudden urge to go after eating whilst I was in a public place. I urgently searched for a bog as my stomach hurt and produced funny sounds, trying not to to accidentally foul myself. It was was with huge relief that I found a toilet and went inside, but to my horror, I discovered....

That it was only urinals. What kind of anti social bastard does that?
 
I was once desperate with a sudden urge to go after eating whilst I was in a public place. I urgently searched for a bog as my stomach hurt and produced funny sounds, trying not to to accidentally foul myself. It was was with huge relief that I found a toilet and went inside, but to my horror, I discovered....

That it was only urinals. What kind of anti social bastard does that?
So did you crimp one out in the urinal, or slink out hoping to make it to another bog?
 
So did you crimp one out in the urinal, or slink out hoping to make it to another bog?
He wrote "Buy some fucking cubicles" on the wall in his own shit, Bobby Sands style.
 
So did you crimp one out in the urinal, or slink out hoping to make it to another bog?
My brain was in panic mode, and I did consider the urinal action but decided that it was not the done thing. I gritted my teeth (not the only thing I was holding together) and gingerly made my way to a proper bog.

My brother works outdoors and usually has a bucket to hand in these type of situations. Hopefully not somewhere full of people though.
 
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My brother works outdoors and usually has a bucket to hand in these type of situations. Hopefully not somewhere full of people though.
I used to do the odd bit of sewerage work for a mate when he had larger jobs on.

On one job we were employed to dye-pack the surface drains of an entire bonded warehouse site as surface water was leaking in to the sewers.
One of the warehouses was a cosmetics packing company with a very high proportion of immigrant labour from West Africa.

The site manager warned us most explicitly that there would be some pretty exotic pathogens in the sewers. He was very blunt about it and urged great caution. He called in sewerage specialists because he thought the risk to the health of his own staff was too high

My mate, being a seasoned sewerage fella who spent a lot of his time knee deep in shit was quite blase about it. To the extent he didn't bother to wash his hands before lunch.

About an hour after lunch we were heading down one of the site roads, him popping man hole lids and me alongside in the van with all the kit in it.
He turned to me with a slightly odd expression on his face at tells me he thinks he needs to find a toilet
No problem, say I, theres one at the bottom of this road, jump in the van and I'll take you down there.
Too late, says he, as a funny smell becomes apparent.....

60 miles home across the Pennines, perched on a bucket in the back of a Sprinter van. Naturally I understood he was ill and hurled that Sprinter around every twist and turn of that long road home as fast as I possibly could to try and get him back to his own toilet as quickly as possible
It was his van, he had to clean it up afterwards.

For the following two or three weeks his arse exploded runny brown stuff without warning whenever it felt like it.
When we went back to finish the job he donned a full body condom for the duration. And he washed his hands most diligently thereafter
 
Not so much a public bog, but a thunderbox on an exercise area somewhere in Cumbria. After doing my business in the thunderbox, I rinsed my hands in what I thought was a low set sink. Sited there cos of the limited space in the thunderbox.

I later learned that it was in fact a urinal, and that I had swilled my hands in piss. I had the trots for a few days afterwards.
 
I once found a working lock on the door and a large supply of toilet paper. There was no shit in or on the porcelain, or the walls for that matter, and the floor was dry.

To this day nobody has believed me.

On another occasion the missus was working the last train from Waterloo one night and it had one of the disabled toilets with the massive, curved automated doors that open if not locked properly from the inside.
To hers, and the other passengers delight it opened to reveal a young amorous couple, the male member of said couple going like a Trojan up her rear loader.
"I knew he was bumming her because she said so quite loudly, several times. To be honest the narration was completely unnecessary, it was quite obvious to anyone watching."

To their credit they didn't miss a stroke despite the big reveal.
 
I once found a working lock on the door and a large supply of toilet paper. There was no shit in or on the porcelain, or the walls for that matter, and the floor was dry.

To this day nobody has believed me.

On another occasion the missus was working the last train from Waterloo one night and it had one of the disabled toilets with the massive, curved automated doors that open if not locked properly from the inside.
To hers, and the other passengers delight it opened to reveal a young amorous couple, the male member of said couple going like a Trojan up her rear loader.
"I knew he was bumming her because she said so quite loudly, several times. To be honest the narration was completely unnecessary, it was quite obvious to anyone watching."

To their credit they didn't miss a stroke despite the big reveal.
Despite not believing a single word of your first paragraph, I have given you an "informative".
 
My brain was in panic mode, and I did consider the urinal action but decided that it was not the done thing. I gritted my teeth (not the only thing I was holding together) and gingerly made my way to a proper bog.

My brother works outdoors and usually has a bucket to hand in these type of situations. Hopefully not somewhere full of people though.
You'd get a few odd looks in the shopping centre with the bucket option
 
Into a cubicle I had to take off a shoe and then stand in it, take off other shoe, take off pants, take off duds, filthy drippy shit all over them, threw them in the toilet, used most of the bog roll to clean myself, pants hadn’t escaped, cleaned them too but slightly whiffed of shit, flushed the toilet before redressing, toilet overflows.
Do you use Trap No1 in the bogs in my office block?
 
Things I have found in public toilets. 2 dead junkies, several overdosed near dead junkies, junkies fuçking.
A dead baby.
Lots of needles.
You need to get another hobby. Metal detectors on sale in Lidl next week
 
Not in a public toilet but close by. Some years ago the Boss, myself and the dog (a Yorky) were in Cuxhaven waiting for the ferry to Helgoland. The Boss decided she needed the ladies and off we went, the dog and I stayed a yard or ten away, I don't really want to lurk near a bog. Then something appeared which can only be described as a fairly ancient hag with an inch or three of makeup badly applied. It/she/whatever looked in our direction and said "Na Süsser" = ish "Hello Sweety". I whispered out of the corner of my mouth to the dog "I hope the f**k she means you". Just as well dogs can't talk, but the look he gave was something like f**k off and die.
 

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