oh dear, what can the matter be
Nov. 11th, 2002 11:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ramtopshacking up from Bristol to Suffolk on Friday, we hit the vileness that is the M25 at about 5.30 pm. The traffic reports told us that the motorway was running very slow for several miles, so we came off at the next junction - which was the M1 and, if anything, even worse. We crawled up to Luton, and stopped to buy a road atlas (where on earth has the one from the Moose gone?).
I decided to avail myself of the garage's plumbing facilities. Imagine my horror when I tried to emerge, and heard the door handle fall to the floor - the door handle on the other side of the door :(. After a few minutes,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
perlmonger called through the door to see if I was ok, and I said "help" in a rather small voice. He summoned the yoof from behind the counter, who didn't seem to be really bothered that he had a (now rather irate) woman imprisoned in his lavatory. So Pete got out his trusty Leatherman Crunch and dismantled the door furniture so I could emerge, unscathed but feeling quite viciously polite.
I said to the yoof that probably a sign on the door to indicate the fact that one could inadvertently be incarcerated might be a good idea, but he informed me that his customers wouldn't like to find the facilities out of order. I suspect they wouldn't actually like being locked in a grotty garage bog either, but I suppose it's not my problem. At least, not any more.
I decided to avail myself of the garage's plumbing facilities. Imagine my horror when I tried to emerge, and heard the door handle fall to the floor - the door handle on the other side of the door :(. After a few minutes,
perlmonger called through the door to see if I was ok, and I said "help" in a rather small voice. He summoned the yoof from behind the counter, who didn't seem to be really bothered that he had a (now rather irate) woman imprisoned in his lavatory. So Pete got out his trusty Leatherman Crunch and dismantled the door furniture so I could emerge, unscathed but feeling quite viciously polite.I said to the yoof that probably a sign on the door to indicate the fact that one could inadvertently be incarcerated might be a good idea, but he informed me that his customers wouldn't like to find the facilities out of order. I suspect they wouldn't actually like being locked in a grotty garage bog either, but I suppose it's not my problem. At least, not any more.
