A few months ago, I moved into a new office. This sign hangs in the ladies’ room. I’m oddly fascinated by it.
At my birthday dinner earlier this year (at La Porchetta in Clerkenwell, which I never did write about), we talked about tap water. As we often do when I’m around and refuse to drink the bottled stuff.
Al & Louise told a horrifying story about a dead bird and a cistern (or maybe it was a well) and someone getting up to get a glass of water in the middle of the night and not knowing that you’re not supposed to drink from the bathroom faucet. That poor soul got really ill.
But I have to wonder…in the City, where is it that our office tap water is coming from? Why is it so bad?