Hell, I Copped A Pad!

Further to yesterday's grumble, as I was walking into town, along King Street, not half an hour after moaning about the market days litter, I trod on something soft.
Just as when you cut your finger and are reluctant to look at it, because you know it's going to be grim, I had the same reaction with what I believed to be a dog turd.
So you can imagine my relief and delight, when I finally looked, to discover that it was a used sanitary towel.
I'd love to meet the woman who changes her towels outside a florist. I should imagine that she's an interesting person, indeed!