I got trapped in a toilet yesterday. It was at King's, the Waterloo campus. As an ex-student, I showed an old ID, and I ran into the building, because I desperately needed the loo, and couldn’t see one for miles. I ran straight up the stairs, and into the toilet.
Now, King’s have a strange thing about placing the ladies toilet on the first floor, and directly above it, the men’s toilets. Same place, but the floor above. I had forgotten this. I found myself in the cubicle, minding my own business, but wondering why the tissue had a nice little mirror next to it, and why it was so scarily clean. King’s must have got better cleaners, I told myself. Then all of a sudden, I heard a soundd I could never have imagined I would hear in the place I was-well, the place I thought I was (the men’s toilets). I head the odd sound of not one, but two women giggling and coming in, and starting to talk all sorts of things. I don't think I checked the sign on the door, due to my desperation, and had run into the ladies! Now I was truly in a predicament: I didn’t want to stay, like some kind of man-spy, but I couldn't leave, as the two women would think I was some sort of strange man-spy who had perhaps watched Mel Gibson’s What Women Want a few too many times, and decided he wanted to know what women talk about in loos! So, I had to wait.
Ten minutes later, and these women are still talking. I won’t divulge the content of their conversation, but I must admit I found it strange that in the same breath, they were able to talk about their boyfriends, their exes, and, strangely, even their cats!
After about twelve minutes, they finally left, the circle came to a close: they left, giggling again, and I ran out of that toilet, faster than I had run in!
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