Thursday, February 16, 2012

Sendin' Out An SOS

So, this morning at approximately 9:55 a.m. I reached for the bathroom door handle, heard a small snap and discovered that the door knob was broken and I was locked in my own bathroom.  I never imagined such a thing was possible. I would have never imagined being stuck in a room in my own home. 

For about twenty minutes I raided my bathroom vanity in a vain attempt to find something that would help me pick the lock of my lavatory prison. I tried to remain cool and collected as I attempted to extricate myself from the bathroom by saying things like, "I'm not locked in the bathroom, it's just a little stuck.  Who gets locked in the bathroom?  I can do this!  I'm a crafty and intelligent woman, surely I can open this door!" 

The black-head remover, scissors, bobby pins and combs failed me and I resorted to screaming obscenities and pounding the door with my hands.  I texted my mom from the bathroom and emailed my husband at work so that I could at least tell someone what was happening. That way there would be a record of what happened should I perish after being in the bathroom for hours... 

From all the commotion, Ian was alerted to my dire situation and attempted to free me the only way he knew how.  

At least he tried.  

After sitting against the vanity and staring daggers at the door, I resigned myself to the fact that I couldn't do this alone.  Someone would have to come and bust down this door.  Someone was going to see me in my jammies and without a bra.  Great.

I had to look up the phone number to the main office (which took forever) and thought of a few choice words I was going to scream at them when they answered the phone.  I wanted to yell that I was "stuck in the bleeping bathroom because of this bleeping relic of a bleeping door knob had broken just like all the other bleeping bleeping things in this bleeping apartment."  I couldn't do it though because the lady sounded so nice when she answered.  I couldn't ruin her day and it was nice that she gasped in surprise that I was stuck in the bathroom and rushed over immediately with maintenance.  It's not her fault that these apartments suck so horribly. She doesn't own the property, she just manages it.  

After a few minutes they busted through the door and I emerged from the bathroom, embarrassingly crossing my arms and rushing to get dressed as they left to retrieve a new door knob. 

And, it works.  Though, it has a nice attractive crack down the side... but what bathroom hasn't seen a few cracks? 

It feels good to be free!

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