As we may have previously established I just happen to be a bathroom reader - yes that's right, I'm one of a small but very dedicated group known fondly as the bathroom readers institute, they even have books specially made for us.
For those of you that like to get in, do your business and get out I can understand why this may be a hard thing to understand. "Why sit there in your own stink"? I can hear you saying. Your probably the same person that won't take baths, usually for the same reason "I refuse to sit in my own filth". Well I'm sorry to say I am the complete opposite, I'm not saying I fantasize about siting in stink or filth but there are things I like to take my time with.
Alright, so that was probably more information than I should have shared so lets move on. The point is I spent time on the toilet, something you need to know to understand the rest of this story.
It was on a rare night out to our local chinese restaurant that after a large water and more than my fare share of rice ships I felt the urge and excused myself accordingly. Locking myself in I was surprisingly quick to do what I needed and was back at the door within a few minutes. To my horror, the lock wouldn't budge.
I could immediately feel the stall shrink to half its size as I jiggled the lock furiously back and forth. Folding my shirt around my hand I tried again, using all my strength. I started to sweat. "Help" I called feebly trying the lock again. I looked up hoping to see a gap between the sides of the stall and ceiling, enough to climb over. It was a solid wall, I was completely closed in. Fighting back tears I sat on the floor knocking on the door at sporadic intervals hoping someone would hear me.
Minutes ticked away and no one raised the alarm basing assumptions on my history of lengthy bathroom visits. As my family ate and talked I felt more alone in the stall thoughts of abandonment swirling in my head.
20 minutes later mum had finally noticed my absence. I remained on the cold floor, my tummy growling as thoughts turned to the dishes that were now being served and what I'd have to eat if I was forced to stay in the stall forever.
Just as I lost hope I heard a faint knock on the door."Lesley, are you ok in there" relief coursed through my body as I sprung up and called through the door "I'm locked in mum, help me". After what mum assures me was not a snigger I heard her fumble with the lock, swearing under her breath. "Hang on Les, I'll get you out". I waited for what felt like ages as I heard all sorts of strange sounds emanating from outside the door. All of a sudden the lock gave a jerk and gave way as the door was wrenched open.
There stood mum, a knife in one hand and the lock in the other. I fell into her arms close to tears and she led me back out to the table, pausing once to hand a waitress the lock saying something about the fact it may belong to them.
We finished our mongolian beef and fried rice then left and never returned. So my advice for this week is simple, when going to a public toilet - always look for your emergency exists and have a knife handy, because you never know when your visit could turn into a stay.
Dedicated to other bathroom readers ^_^