Monday, February 13, 2006
I went to Starbucks today. Not for coffee - just to use its restroom. So in I went, feeling considerably more collected than I was 2 days ago, because I had spent my day getting replacement cards, settling paperwork and generally cleaning up various messes at a nice clip. I had finally bought my textbook (second-hand and relatively cheap, considering), and I was in the process of booking flights home. I felt decently
accomplished, and even allowed myself a wary sense of optimism.
Nothing seemed out of place - I shut the door, locked it, went about my business - and when I tried to open the door again, I couldn't.
At first I assumed that my door-opening skills were somehow at fault, so I tried harder. I jabbed repeatedly at the button, jiggled the knob, leaned my entire weight on the door, willing it to swing open so I could quietly and unobtrusively go on with my life without having to suffer the embarrassment of banging on the door and yelling for help in the crowded cafe.
But, despite my best attempts, thematic consistency won the day and the door stayed locked, much to the merriment of my hypothetical cosmic persecutor. And so I was reduced to, yes, banging on the door and yelling for help.
It could have been worse, I suppose. I could have been stuck there for much longer had the aforementioned cosmic persecutor not decided that the joke had gone on far enough and graciously sent a Starbucks employee to release me from my urine-scented cell. It turned out that the locking mechanism was defunct and the restroom had to be declared out-of-order until the lock could be repaired. And with my luck,
of course I had to be the first unfortunate person to discover this, in a cafe
full of people and serving caffeinated beverages with a diuretic effect.
I'm so NOT freaking amused by all this.
words were spilled on Monday, February 13, 2006