In my mid-teens I worked as a waitress in an old age home, and between set-up and serving we had a long break with nothing to do and nowhere to go. So one day one of the bolder girls suggested we go downstairs to check out the men's room. So off we went. It was a very strange moment. We kind of hung around, smoking cigarettes and flushing the urinal, which was a very tall affair with the handle high above it. I remember wondering why there was no roll of toilet paper hanging next to it.