When I was out in the car I drove past a man getting out of his. He was in tan leisurewear that was a matching top and shorts that were made of some kind of soft material. The back of the shorts were drenched in sweat and looked like he had shit himself. It looked like he had been sat driving for eight hours, the sweat collecting and pooling around his ass, mixing with the shit in his ass crack and turning it into a shitty stew which seeped down to the fabric of the shorts, the sweat starting to evaporate leaving behind smears of shit on the fabric. Hopefully he was aware and was going back home to change, but maybe he was going to meet friends, or to a pub, or to meet a girl. I contemplated stopping, winding down my window and letting him know. It can't be anything but embarrassing to have someone tell you that you have faeces on your shorts, but if you *have* be told by someone then who better than a complete stranger you'll never see again? Alas I was now a hundred yards down the road and the moment was gone.