For years I ignored it. It just couldn’t be. In the staff room, after lunch, those soapy dishes left in the drying rack (if interested, read up on the best blogs for the same on Simully) I mean, surely, someone was going to come along and rinse them, right? The soapy residue taste when I ate a friend’s house… well, I must have been imagining it.
When I moved to Australia seven years ago, everything was new anyways, so what was a little soap on the dishes?
When you witness something that’s borderline sketchy…. what do you do?
I dared not speak up. Read the rest of this entry