Story- 60 hours trapped in a toilet

We work in a small office, the building comprises of 3 floors.

The office is two levels, ground and cellar.

The top floor is a residential maisonette with its own independent access at the rear.

In fact, so self contained we’ve never met the tenant above.

The office is small, we are like a dysfunctional but mainly happy work family, close enough to know everyone’s business.

So when someone shouts loudly ‘oh no, oh no’ with some expletives, from downstairs, you know somethings up!

Jen had broken the handle off the bathroom door.

It’s a unisex toilet, two enclosed toilets, a mirror and a washbasin then a main entrance door.

We were told, we can use the toilets but the main entrance door handle is now broken and the door is propped open with a bucket.

So for those, who need a ‘number 2’ or worried about the sounds when natures calls, the lavatory is for all to hear! Perhaps it was the only place for privacy.

It was a busy afternoon, around 3pm. We clock off officially at 5pm, I had some extra bits to do so was in the office until 6pm.

Friday nights, are not the nights to stay late as a rule but I was 2 days into coming back from honeymoon and on office work catch up.

I’m no longer in my 20’s where my friends are waiting for me to meet them in town or getting dressed up to go out on a Friday night out. So, all was calm.

I now seek pleasure in the peace of the countryside and solitude, my own space and had no real weekend plans, in fact my husband was working away, there was no rush to be home.

It was going to be, me, myself and I and was looking forward to a quiet weekend.

My sales manager was in his private room after hours with and as I was finishing up, I said to him

‘I’m just going to the toilet.’

He said he would wait for me, for safety reasons.

As I sat in the cubicle for the last time in the day, all quiet on my own, all of the cellar level had gone home.

This is when it dawned on me..

Imagine if I had been alone and knocked the bucket, I would be trapped in the bathroom for a whole weekend?

I’m haphazard and heavy handed generally. Like a baby elephant when I stomp around, this would be an easy mistake to make, a slight off movement through the toilet entrance, accidentally kick the bucket and wham bam..locked in a bathroom for the whole weekend.

My mind started to wonder, who would know I was there?

I had no phone for communications, my husband was away, I have no pets or family waiting for me at home.

Not that pets can ring the emergency services!

Maybe after a time, my husband might message a work colleague but not necessarily until he was back home, that could be Sunday.

My neighbour, probably not think it strange that I hadn’t come home, we share a driveway.

But often I house sit or am away at short notice. Plus I don’t always reply straight away on the phone if she were to text.

And then I thought about survival, no food for 60 hours until Monday morning.

What kind of a state would I be in?

No food!

I’m just about used to a 5/2 diet. 500 calorie juices for 2 days a week, but SIXTY HOURS?

The office is surrounded by restaurants and bars, from Thai, Indian, Fish & Chips to smoothies, great coffee. When you get hungry, you dream of what you could have! All that on the outside within 100 metres of the office door and not able to reach it?

They say cravings last 30 minutes. Or at least it’s something I heard that stuck.

I imagine 60 hours with no distracting would be a craving from hell.

How long can a drunk go without craving a kebab?

How long can a kid walk around the candy shop without trying some?

I would have 60 hours to think.

What would I be doing if I weren’t sat locked in a toilet?

A few hours on social media, a few hours watching TV, having a lazy day, being comfy in bed for at least 8 hours a night or chilling on the sofa eating chocolate and watching repeats of Midsomer Murders, some meditating, walking round the village, texting my husband, reading his ‘miss you GIF’s.

If my thoughts turned dark, of impending doom, there was bleach to drink.

Then I remembered, I once did this by mistake.

Drank from a mug which was being bleached.

Forgetting the bleach was in there and thinking it just had water in, I only rinsed it out and drank from it without thought.

It made me physically sick and gave me stomach cramps. I could never intentionally self harm!

There was some mouth wash in the cupboard, but no entertainment. Just some cleaning products to organise.

And who would want to clean the bathroom they are locked in?

Or even the bathroom, they meet there end in?

Even a deep clean would take no more than 30 minutes.

Maybe my colleagues would say ‘She was a lovely girl, she even cleaned the toilet’

Water

I would have to survive on sink tap water, I mean it’s not the end of the world but as a rule, I’m a bottled water, natural girl.

And I would have to lick it from under the tap like a cat!

Vanity

My make up by the end of a normal day has dropped off my face, how would I look after 60 hours?

My mascara would be stuck together, maybe I would look like a panda!

Would I still have a belly after that time, not eating?

If this would have happened in my 20’s, my metabolism was so fast, if I didn’t eat for 8 hours, my stomach would invert..I would never last.

Now I have a peri-menopause middle to rely on and don’t suffer badly in the cold like I used to, one benefit of being mid-40’s in these circumstances.

Sleep

I would have to curl up like a dog on the floor, my hair would become bushy and frizzy. Cold bones and zero comfort. Slowly fading away on the bathroom vinyl floor or cold toilet seat. Could I get hyperthermia?

All this, whilst the outside world is partying and dining outside the doorstep.

Who would hear my cries from the basement toilets?

How long could I shout where the tenant on the top floor could hear me.

Then I finish my vivid thoughts and time in the rest room and back to reality.

Out of paranoia, quickly washing my hands not to stay any longer than required, without using the bathroom hand dryer..oh that could have stopped hypothermia!

I opened the door carefully, to avoid the bucket.

Walked up the stairs. This was the start of my weekend with freedom, to eat, drink, sleep and live a normal life.

Maybe the moral of the story is. Things could be worse. You could be locked in a toilet! (On a Friday night)

Victoria x