180 grit sand paper and going home trousers

Today was my last day at the 'Lord Nelson for a few weeks. The sun was rising on yet another clear Canaries day when I peered from my port hole.

I made my way from my cabin accross the corridor to the crew heads for my morning constitution.

This particualr morning I was afforded a little extra time in bed. My taxi was coming at 1000, so all I needed to do was, clean out my cabin, see the captain to sign off, Have a cup of tea and leave.

This had not gone un-noticed by my happily working collegues.
So in the heads (toilet), it was business as usual. However, on completing, said task. I reach for the familiar feel of soft, white toilet paper, to find in its place a roll 180 grit sand paper!

Laugh... Only after I uncomfortably went to next toilet to liberate the real McCoy

Back in my cabin I find a fresh pair of clean trousers ( going home trousers) enjoyed a laugh with my new friends on deck and left for home..