I WAS ascending an escalator in Lakeside the other day, when I almost found my nose prodding around the backside of the young lady in front of me.

Minus any underwear, nearly the whole of her pocked arse was hanging out of a pair of droopy black jeans - she would have put the most burly of builders to shame!

OK, most of us blokes like to do a spot of window shopping from a distance - without buying might I add - but this was up close and personal and just too much.

It was a baking hot day under the glass roof and I'm sure I saw a sweaty dribble riding down the side of the offender's fake tan covered crease, which looked a little embarassed itself to be on full show.

I'm not going to comment on the attractiveness rating of the girl, but she wasn't too bad and had a relatively good body.

But it really doesn't matter. I don't think I'd have been happy if it had been Catherine Zeta Jones going up with her cheeks on full view. OK maybe that's a big fat fib, but it still wasn't on!

Just as bad was bum bird's mate. The stoaty skinny thing's trousers were also closer to her knees than her thighs, with a scabby old pair of creased black French knick-knacks on full view.

Thank God for small mercies!