You've just reminded me of a wedding gig I played a few years ago where the venue set us up a table away from the main hall, 'for our comfort'. It was directly outside the toilets 🤮. At the start of the evening, it smelled like someone had gone crazy with the bleach blocks, the vapours actually made our eyes sore... in the first break, you could see all the p*ss seeping under the door and, by the time we'd finished, the smell of sick and excrement was so bad, we went and stood out in the torrential rain instead. What is it with men who simply can't aim? Seriously, how do they find it SO difficult? 🤢