I have a nice blue towel at work. It's my cycling towel and it normally hangs off a cupboard next to my desk every day so it can dry out and be reused the next day. Of course I do take it home to be washed occasionally but my towel is treated with reverence and respect, not like the slimy specimen's hung in the showers and left there all week.
Observant readers will have noticed a distinct lack of proper posting yesterday morning. I had a biomechanical assessment and now have funny new insoles for my shoes. I therefore only cycled halfway in normalish clothes and didn't need to shower.
I was a little worried when I arrived at work to find an empty space where my beloved towel usually hangs. I was livid, a towel thief!
Then I realised I had probably just left it in the shower the day before. I nipped up to get it. I had not used my towel in two days and was horrified to find it was damp. Really damp. Damp with the dampness of being pressed against someone's damp body. And it hadn't been mine! Someone else's bits had been rubbed all over MY towel.
I took it home and beloved blue towel now smells of Bold's Silk and Jasmine. Order has been restored to the universe.