A fear like no other

Office toilets are usually assigned one for a dozen people anyway, so it's no suprise if you walk into the gents and find that all are currently occupied.

Easy methods of spotting occupation are:

• If the door is closed
  
• Checking for the "Occupied" sign on the lock of the door.
• Looking at the lock-side of the door and seeing if the bolt of the lock has been pulled across.

Not that difficult to spot. If the door is closed and one of its following conditions are met, you can just go ahead and come back in five minutes.

This strategy isn't for everyone however.

Our office toilets are quite cramped, and with each cubicle, when seated your knees are no farther than six inches from the door. It's very up-close and personal.

You and that door become firm friends. A bond is formed when you realise that there's only your woody friend between you and utter humiliation.

This forged bond was to be put to the test just yesterday.

When sat on the toilet minding my own business, somebody opens the main toilet door with such force and brutality, it fills my heart with an instant sense of dread.

The ape then storms through to the first cubicle clearly in a rush, and attempts to open the first door to my left. No dice. There are only two doors. I'm next.

The suspense is killing me as Allan the ape then nearly rips the door handle off trying to get into my cubicle.

My face is no more than ten inches away from the handle itself.

Woody is holding steady, but still Allan tries harder. Woody starts to creak. Allan assumes that even though the occupied sign is clearly in place, it's not occupied and that the lock must be stuck.

I am frozen with terror as Woody holds his ground, and eventually Allan retreats back into whatever tree he came from.

Check the lock first, you spoon-fed.

The schoolboy error

I commit a few errors of a schoolboy nature, but I thought that this one deserved the label about as much as any other error I've made.

As I have described in many other posts, our office building has a communal toilet consisting of 3 stalls. It's very intimate, and on occasions, very crowded.

One day, I walked into the toilet to be greeted by the most hideous stench coming from a newly vacated stall.

Without even thinking about the consequences, I exclaimed "Jesus Christ! That's disgraceful!".

I hear uncomfortable shuffling, and look to my left to see that one of the other stalls is occupied, and the occupant clearly believes that my comment was directed toward him.

I wasn't hanging around to cope with the awkward silence at the sink situation, so left sharpish.

You get the idea though.