Arriving back from lunch, I pressed then button for the lift. It arrived on the ground floor, and before I got in, a woman on her mobile came BARRELLING out, not looking where she was going, and had to do a swerve to avoid colliding with me. I let out a "whoops", as if it was MY fault, but this went totally unacknowledged as she scuttled off, head down, phone jammed hard against the side of her face.
I thought nothing more of it until I stepped into the lift, and the doors closed. Before I pressed 2, I was immediately assaulted by an odourous STENCH the likes of which I have not smelled since the infamous full-blown surprise rear axel Curry Mahal pebbledash BLOWOUT of 2003. It was so bad, I turned around and checked the floor to see if she'd curled out a Vince somewhere.
What do you do in that situation ? I could have held my breath, but I'd only have been holding in the foul, fetid gasses of her soiled inner colon. I elected to slowly release the air from my lungs as the lift travelled up the two floors, until the thankful release of the 2nd floor arrived and I could once again breathe in the pure, sweet, air-conditioned oxygen of the hallway. I glanced back into my vertical tomb of STENCH before the doors closed and I could swear the mirror had warped, and the carpetting was coming up at the corners. DISGUSTING bint.
I will add here that I would normally take the stairs, but I was a bit late back after I'd doubled-back to Londis to pick up a bottle of fresh orange juice with bits in.
Women are dirty.