Yep, not my snappy pic this time, but a bloody good one nonetheless. A big merci beaucoup to PAM for this one (sorry for stealing your thunder on this one, mon ami, but it was just too good to hold back for one minute longer). And what wonderfully fetid memories we have (I have) of this ablutions room, where not a mop nor a scrubbing brush or even a modest run-of-the-mill deodoriser cube was seen in the lifetime of this establishment. I doubt whether even the ladies was any better, although PAM may have more knowledge on the conditions our female colleagues had to endure; he had a well-known predeliction (sounds better with a French accent) for keeping watch on the movements in and out of that room from the hallway leading out from the bar and making subtle moves on his marks from there. The malodourous ambience can't have been too much of a passion killer, but PAM's room may have seemed the lesser of the two evils at the time. (I'll never forget the best line in French that I ever picked up there: "Tu as jolie cu".) What I'm really looking forward to are snaps from his private collection - the camera was always poised strategically on its tripod at the end of a certain item of domestic furniture in his boudoir.I wonder if pan Vacha had actually intended for the pissoar to be kept in this state as some sort of post-modernist joke, or if perhaps the 3 hellers profit he made on each beer prevented him from purchasing the requisite pesticides and fumigants. Then again, I guess he was saving all those hellers up for the eventual demolition of this historic site and the erection of the new Vacha and Zanzibar. On the other hand, I suppose one's patience would get sorely tested by the year-on-year barfing and liquid excrement sprayed over the urinal and cubicle walls by first year students and foreign teachers to the extent that all you could do is give a Gallic shrug.
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