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On Friday evening I engaged in one of my favourite hobbies: eating alone. I reclined back in my eco-friendly beanie bag and eagerly awaited some vegan morsels. Noting, upon my prior visit, how minuscule the platters were (i.e one singular lettuce leaf with a couple of lentil droppings) I opted for the couples special. I had long since accepted my inevitable cat-filled future (or in my case budgie-filled) so why miss out on a bargain?! However, I noted that (somewhat ironically) my earlier hearty chicken fillet roll luncheon had left me bursting to the brim. I needed to urgently locate a jax.
I was directed by a young dungaree-clad ruffian down a winding staircase and at the bottom of the corridor there were four mysterious doors. Door One’s stick figure was t-shirt-clad, and had two legs, but was unfortunately armless. Door Two’s character was wearing a similar t-shirt which was shorter in length, was also armless, but appeared to have bosoms.(or moobs?). Door Three’s stick figure appeared to consist of a rectangle and circle intersecting one another. Door Four’s character was either morbidly obese or pregnant and appeared to be in the seated position. Door Five was mysteriously blank. Sweat gathered in the furrows of my brow as I tried to crack the code. Not wanting to risk a fascist conservative fuck up, I decided It would be best to hold it until I had met my liberal friends who would hopefully guide me through the new jax system which had appeared to recently have been implemented.
After discharging my astronomically high bill I waddled to Workman’s. Upon entering the hipster haven, I beelined towards my friends. I immersed myself in a vibrant sea of flannel, and foggy seventies specs. The military-like synchronised stomp of at least ten pairs of patent Doc Martens vibrated through the room. Oh these young rapscallions knew how to live! I couldn’t seem to spot an authoritative figure amongst them. I descended down the steps two at a time, my bladder full to bursting. There on the second floor appeared to be a row of unisex cubicles. I dry heaved from shock. I could not allow young men listen to me tinkle, or see me powder my nose!!
I descended down another staircase before entering a dimly lit corridor. Flaming torches lit the scene, and were secured tightly in bronze brackets. In the distance I heard the comforting flush of a cistern. I was close. I could feel it. Upon walking a little further, I heard a gentle purring. There sprawled out in the hallway, was the strangest creature I had ever seen. She possessed a beautiful human face, with ebony hair and Cleopatra-style winged eye liner (both wings completely symmetrical – the bitch). However she also had four paws, magenta claws, and a soft swishing tail. Shite – a mutated lion guarding the jax?!
“No. I’m a sphinx and I can read your thoughts”.
“Only the brave of heart will decipher this riddle”.
I frowned and inspected the door signs. Door one had a triangle and square. Door two had two intersecting circles. Door three an armless figure.
“Riddle me this! What goes on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?”
“Em..eh..em…” The urgency of the situation overcame me, and I found myself in a horrifically uncompromising position, whizzing in the corner, ill-educated and afraid. The Sphinx sighed with disappointment and shook her mane.
It was the most shameful moment of my life.