I overheard myself muttering at work after setting down the phone. "Whenever I try to call the Stats Department, they're always on the phone! What's the probability of that?"
Me: I need to stop at the drug store to pick up some tampons for Erin.
Dan (visibly cringes): Okay, you don't have to spell it out.
Me: What's wrong with buying tampons?
Dan: There's nothing wrong about buying tampons, there's just something ick about it!
Me: (pauses, then...): TAMPONS! TAMPONS! TAMPONS! I'M BUYING MY WIFE TAMPONS!
The gym looks at us. Dan walks out the door.
One of the more unique things this eliminates, apparently, is the practise of token sucking. That's where a tokensucker slips a piece of cardboard into the token slot and stands back and waits. The next patron who tries to use the turnstile drops the token in the slot, but can't use the turnstile, since the token is stuck. He tries and he tries until he gives up in disgust and leaves, whereupon the tokensucker comes up to the turnstile, puts his mouth to the token slot, and...
(Picture Dan and I in the car going "ewwwwww!"
Dan: "SARS City!")
So, the radio goes on to talk about the sort of things done to prevent token sucking, from pepper paste to mace to even (heh!) crazy glue. An incredulous Dan looks at me and says:
Dan: Doesn't anybody else notice? Why don't they do something?
Me: Well, Dan, think about it: you're the next passenger, you've just come down the stairs, and the first thing you see is somebody french-kissing the turnstile. What do you do?
Dan: Give him a wide berth.