Nothing.

Instead of turning the knob, I wiggled it, then turn and push, wiggled, then turn and push.

Nope.

Still, finding it rather entertaining to be stuck in a bathroom, I unleashed the MacGyver within me by trying other various clever of ways to get the knob to turn thus opening the door.

Nothing worked, and that’s when I knew I was really stuck in the bathroom…and I wasn’t MacGyver.

Since I knew the guys who were working on our house was right outside of my bathroom, I was debating for two minutes whether I should cry out for help or not. I really wanted to but I was too embarrassed, I also didn’t want to disrupt their conversation. Yes, I know, I guess I’d rather be stuck inside of a bathroom (which mind you is about the size of a port-o-potty, possibly smaller) sniffing what smells like ass all day, then to disrupt their break.

Sweat started to bead on my forehead and my heart began to race as I shook, yanked, and pushed the door knob. Five excruciating long minutes began to pass and progress has not been made.

I could feel the blood leave my face as I braced for what was to come: Slowly suffocating in my own after-shit smell while the workers were smoking and chit-chatting just a few feet away from me. I went delusional, the thought of simply knocking on the door and then saying, “Hey guys, I’m stuck in this bathroom, can you please try to open it? kthx” was still out of the question, my composure and patience were entirely thrown out the window, and I started to attack the door with ruthless abandon.

I was grunting and moaning while ramming into the door repeatedly with the side of my arms. Few minutes later, tears started to blur my vision; I decided to give my arms a rest by switching over to my legs, and while all of this is happening, I can hear the workers talking about where to eat for lunch. Being trapped in a small, windowless bathroom is one of the most terrifying things I have ever experienced. To me, it felt like I was in a coffin standing upright which happend to have a toilet in it. Eventually everything, especially hearing them talk about lunch, was just unbearable for me so I surrendered and gave out a loud and boisterous, “YEEELLPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!”

Someone on the other side of the door ask, “Are you…are you stuck?”

“Yes.”

He opens the door like any other door that doesn’t have a fucked up doorknob, and looks at me with caution as if he was expecting me to attack him and then steal his wallet.

“I was hearing stuff, but I thought it was…never mind,” he chuckles and then begins to study the doorknob.

I walked passed the rest of the guys and none of them were making eye contact with me. Probably thought I was a crazy person for air hugging the air after coming out of the bathroom.

Feeling a bit traumatized, I went to my mom right after and bitched about the door and how I was stuck inside for over ten minutes. You know what she did? She laughed. Not only did she laugh, but she ROFL’d in real life.

“Dude go away, your food sucks,” I pushed her away (rolled her away might be the more appropriate term) and she was still laughing at me. Meh, I love my mom, and I love air.