Recipes for Friends

Very Traumatic Event September 17, 2008

So I got trapped in my bathroom the other night.

The door to our bathroom always stuck a little at the top, so I decided one evening to be productive and fix it by sanding the top of the door and the door frame. And then we wouldn’t have to make a big noise yanking the door open whenever we came out of the bathroom. Christi wasn’t home. Kyle had just called and said he had gotten done with a meeting early. So I was going to start dinner and he was going to come over. But I thought I could do this really quickly before I started cooking and still have time before Kyle got there. So I stood on the toilet next to the door and sanded it some. I thought I had gotten quite a bit of the paint off the top of the door, so I thought I would try and see if I had fixed it. For some reason, I decided to close the door from the inside of the bathroom. I shut the door, and then pulled, and the bottom came out a bit, but the top of the door was wedged. Somehow I seemed to have made it worse. I pulled a lot until my neck sort of spasmed. Then I decided I should stop.

Of course, I had set my phone on the dresser outside the bathroom after Kyle had called, so I couldn’t contact anyone. I just kept thinking, at least Kyle is on his way, and luckily, he has an extra set of keys to my apartment. Our neighbors were in their backyard watching TV or playing the radio really loudly (that’s what they do). So I considered opening the window and yelling down to them, not that they could do anything because the door to the apartment was locked. Finally, I resigned myself to waiting.

When I first moved in, I had put a CD player in our bathroom for Christi and me to play music when we get ready, so I put in Christi’s Coldplay CD (calming music), and I tried the door every few minutes, just thinking maybe if I let it rest it would pop right open. It didn’t. So I washed my face, rearranged some carpet. Then I decided to do Satin Hands because I had it in there. Then I did Satin Hands on my feet. Then I found a pencil and my hair dryer manual and wrote a note that said, “I’m stuck in here. Don’t think I’m just using the bathroom,” and I slid it under the door, in case I didn’t hear someone come in. Then I turned down the music some to prevent that from happening.

Finally I heard our black gate slam, and Kyle came in and yelled up. And I yelled, and told him I was stuck in the bathroom. I knew the door could be opened from the outside because of how it was stuck at the top, as long as someone could pound on it, rather than pulling on it. So Kyle pounded once, and it opened. He was my knight in shining armor. It was very traumatic, and I will probably never go into our bathroom without my cell phone. However, I did fix it later that night, taking a box cutter blade to it, instead of just sand paper. Now it opens smoothly, as long as the door knob is turned all the way (which sometimes it isn’t).

Christi got home around 11, so if Kyle hadn’t come, I wouldn’t have had to sleep in the bathroom at least. We discussed the possibility of it being our little girl ghost trapping me or just my bad luck with doors. At G-town, our doorknob fell off multiple times and our deadbolt got stuck out, so the door couldn’t close. And something happened to my door in England too. So I’m pretty sure it’s just me. Multiple doors in this apartment are pretty tricky too. So that’s my funny story for a little while.