The worst experience was in Cuba. We were out for dinner in one of the fine dining restaurants in our resort. Half-way through our meal, I excused myself to go to the washroom, which was entered by going outside and then, downstairs. It was quiet down there. Too quiet.
When it came time to leave the cubicle, I couldn’t. No amount of turning, twisting, cursing or yelling would help. I think I was in there for about twenty-five minutes before a woman finally came to use the facilities. When I explained that I couldn’t get out, she kindly went upstairs and brought back my husband, and hers, for good measure.
The cubicle was the type that you couldn’t crawl under (eeeyou!), nor crawl over (not that I would be able to do that, anyway!).
Finally, after some fancy maneuvering, the two men were able to get me out of the cubicle.
My earlier statement about not knowing how I get trapped in cubicles is not entirely true. I do know. Poor hand function caused by dislocated fingers and poor maintenance on behalf of the facility owners.
This is a plea to all facility managers ensure that the locks on all your washroom cubicles function well. They should be easy to lock and unlock. Please and thank you!