Had a family reunion-cum-hangout session at my aunt’s hotel room in Fairmont Hotel this evening.
Decent place, lovely view and the toilet was like whoa – white, classy and modern. Cousins settled on the bed with their eyes glued to the television set, while the adults settled at a nearby table for a round of cards.
That was when I decided to use the toilet. (For obvious reasons.)
Closed the door, latched it, did whatever I had to do, washed hands and then proceeded to unlock the door and get out.
The last two steps failed.
Stupid door refused to unlock. The stupid latch was jammed in place.
That was when I yelped, and sent everyone outside scurrying over to the toilet door. (At least, that was what I thought – because all of a sudden, I heard a lot of talking and footsteps outside my door.)
Then, I heard Aunty Olive yell.
“OH SHIT! I FORGOT TO TELL BRENDA NOT TO LOCK THE DOOR! THE LOCK IS SPOILT!”
Now, she tells me.
More murmurings could be heard from outside and I heard that apparently – my cousin David had been locked in this very same bathroom in the afternoon, and all efforts at prying the door open using normal means failed. Engineers had to be called in to force the door open with a screwdriver.
My Uncles then began using metal spoons to open the door in a similar fashion – but failed. The stupid door just refused to open.
Housekeeping was called to report the issue.
Ten minutes later, no one had arrived and I was starting to get really agitated. (Yes, I know that the toilet is all modern and classy and all, but I wouldn’t like to be stuck there for an extended period of time with nothing to do except for when I need to have a good shit, thank you.)
Uncles continued to fiddle with the door, and even my mum and my grandmother attempted to have a go at attempting to open the door. Of course – likewise, all attempts failed.
Housekeeping was called again.
Still, no one arrived. Those bums were taking their own sweet time to tend to this issue.
Cousin David attempted to keep me company from outside the door (and likewise, also attempting to pry the lock loose), but it’s hard to have a normal conversation with someone when you can’t even see his face. (Perhaps the same reason why I hate phone conversations.)
Then, one of my relatives dialed for the manager.
The doorbell rang within five minutes. More footsteps were heard as my relatives scurried over to the door. Then, I heard someone jiggling the handle, sounds of scraping metal and the next thing I knew – the door flew open.
Unfortunately, that’s not the end of the story.
The fellow then proceeded to fiddle with the open door further, possibly attempting to find the reason behind why the lock would suddenly jam. After much knocking and fiddling – he asked another housekeeping fellow to enter the toilet and double-lock it from inside to test whether it was working.
This time, the housekeeping fellow managed to unlock the door without any issue, even when he activated the double-lock. (I only used a single lock, meaning that I turned the lock once rather than twice.)
He was asked to try again, and still no issue.
The first housekeeping fellow then turned towards me.
“How come it’s okay now?”
How the fuck would I know? I thought.
“You see, when you double lock the door – you have to turn the knob twice.” He carried on, as if I was stupid and did not know how a double lock worked.
“Look, the thing is – I did not even double-lock the door. I just turned the knob once – single lock!” I explained.
“Ah ha! Then perhaps when you tried to unlock the door, you turned the knob in the same way and instead of unlocking the door, you locked it further?”
That was when I snapped.
“LOOK. I turned the knob to the left when I locked the door, and turned it to the right when I tried to unlock it. I KNOW my directions.”
That damned door is spoilt and all these fellows know how to do is to throw accusations around. My cousin was locked in that toilet of yours this afternoon as well, which means that the lock is indeed kaput.
And furthermore, does my Uncle need to phone you guys three times before you’d even bother to come around? I mean, someone’s stuck in the toilet here, for the love of mankind – and you can still gallivant at your own pace?!?
Hmmph. At least, that classy and modern toilet made the experience quite tolerable.
Imagine a dark, gloomy and stinky one.
Whatever it is – if anyone out there decides to stay at Fairmont Hotel, Singapore anytime soon, be very, very careful especially if you’re assigned to room number 2120. You might end up being stuck in the toilet as well.
Oh, and be prepared to wait very, very long should you phone Housekeeping for anything. (Regardless of what room you stay in.)