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January 15, 2009 / Maleesha Kovnesky

Baby, You Put the “Fun” in Funeral

I went to a funeral yesterday with my dad.

Like all funerals, it was sad.  There was organ music.  There were uncomfortable moments.  There was sadness all around.  There was a big turnout…standing room only.  Most people were dressed in red, white and blue which had been requested by the family. 

So I will spare you the details of the funeral because the point of this post happened after.  There was a reception held at a nearby hotel.  There was a luncheon and open bar going on.  People mingled and hugged and patted each other on the back.  I saw people I hadn’t seen in a long time.  I was introduced to new people.  In the corner of the room a television played clips from home movies, featuring the departed. 

People milled about for a while.  I had at least six shots of espresso that morning, and I was standing off to the side, near the coat rack, keeping an eye on the line to the bathroom. 

Soon the luncheon began, and most of the people were inside the ballroom, sitting down with friends or family and getting some salad.  Finally my opportunity to use the bathroom was there.

I walked into the two-stall bathroom.  No one was there.  I went into the far stall and locked the door.  Then I…well, you know. 

The trouble came when I tried to exit the stall.  The lock was broken.  I was locked in.  The metal sliding latch was not sliding to let the door open.  Not at all.  I am pretty strong, for a chick anyway, and I could not budge that lock.  The harder I pushed on the slider, the more it hurt…I was getting deep marks on my fingertips from pushing. 

It’s been a while since I’ve done any yoga, but I raised up my leg and placed my foot on the lock.  I believe this is called “Upward Escape pose.”  I gave the lock a good kick, and nothing.  I was freakin’ stuck in the bathroom at a post-funeral luncheon at a fancy hotel. 

Crap.  (Not literally)

I listened.  No one was mingling any longer; there wasn’t anyone standing nearby the bathroom doors.  How did everyone else successfully exit this stall, I wondered?  I had flashbacks to the time I got locked in the bathroom at a Thanksgiving dinner…my boyfriend’s dad had to actually take the door off the hinges during the holiday meal in order to get me out…well at least back then there was someone nearby who eventually heard me calling for help. 

I couldn’t slide under the door.  I couldn’t climb over the door.  I was not about to start screaming. 

So I rammed the door with my shoulder.

It hurt. 

I took a deep breath and rammed it again as hard as I could.  The door blasted open; the latch ripped right from the door and there was a clang as the metal hit the floor.   The door was still on the hinges…but since the crucial locking mechanism was laying under the sink, I figured at least no one else will get stuck in the bathroom

I went back to the ballroom.  My dad was there chatting with some people.  He saw me and walked over.  “Do you want to stay for the lunch, or go?” he asked. 

Go,” I said.  I was more than happy to leave the scene of the crime. 

Sorry, hotel.  But I was not about to be stuck in your bathroom for half the day, awaiting the fire department to come get me out, and possibly get a quick spot on the local news.  I hope the hotel handyman can fix the door.  I’m really sorry, hotel.  But I didn’t have much of a choice!



Leave a Comment
  1. Taoist Biker / Jan 22 2009 1:57 pm

    Wow, that first stuck-in-a-bathroom story really IS better. Holy schnikes, that’s like every nightmare I ever had connected with my girlfriend’s heavily Baptist family.

  2. Pammy Girl / Jan 20 2009 8:51 pm

    Ever thought of crawling under the stall before trying to kung fu your way to the toilet? Classic. Totally something I would do! But this time didn’t.

  3. teeni / Jan 17 2009 10:45 am

    I’m sorry about the loss, first of all.

    Second, I’m not really sorry about the door to the stall. Big, expensive hotels (and little cheap ones too, really) should really do checks of those kinds of things before the people arriving for a scheduled event arrive. I mean, they must have checked for toilet paper and soap and stuff so why not check this stuff especially when there is only a two-stall bathroom and lots of people are expected. Sheesh. I would have done the same.

    Third, I’m glad you didn’t hit it so hard that it came flying off and made a huge noise that got everyone’s attention so they all stared in your direction when you exited the bathroom. That wouldn’t have been good and I was afraid that was where this story was headed! 😉

    This would have been a LOT funnier if someone would have walked in the door as I was busting it down, but alas, it was just me. In a way I am very glad about that. In another, sick, computer-addicted way…I really wish someone would have come in so I could have written a funnier ending.

  4. morethananelectrician / Jan 16 2009 8:21 pm

    ALL public restrooms are bad. Lesson two… Just incase of a “back-up” of the toilet. Always flush after you get the stall door open…trust me!

    Now you have me envisioning a whole new end-ing…

  5. rambleicious / Jan 16 2009 10:00 am

    I don’t think Houdini could have opened that bathroom stall! Good job on your daring escape (I’m sure the hotel would understand).

  6. bluesuit12 / Jan 16 2009 9:10 am

    Oh man this is hilarious! This has definitely taught me the lesson of figuring out an escape plan from the stall before I shut and lock it.

    You never know what could happen during a routine bathroom visit.

  7. pikespeakdenise / Jan 16 2009 6:47 am

    Those expresso shots must have been straight up!

  8. Christine / Jan 15 2009 6:19 pm

    You’ve been stuck in TWO bathroom stalls in your lifetime?! 😆

    Yeah, the first story is actually even better. Boyfriend. Thanksgiving. First time meeting his family. Big dinner with 20+ people. I used the bathroom, and when I tried to leave the doorknob came off in my hand. It was right before dinner and no one could find me. Finally my BF’s sister wandered by and I whispered her name through the door. She heard me and went to get someone to rescue me. The door was completely stuck. The dad had to go get the toolbox from the garage and REMOVE THE DOOR TEN MINUTES BEFORE THE TURKEY WAS SERVED to get me out. It was so so mortifying. This story pales in comparison, except for the nice touch that it occured at a funeral.

  9. Carli / Jan 15 2009 5:36 pm

    hahahahaha that’s hilarious! I can only imagine. You’ll have to secretly tell me which hotel it was at 🙂

    Why be secret about it now? It was the War Bonnet Inn.

  10. curlywurlygurly / Jan 15 2009 4:05 pm

    that is horrible (and hilarious!)-sorry. i can’t even imagine what i would do. probably call someone on my phone to come rescue me.

    That would have been a good idea. Option B left me with a pretty sore shoulder.

  11. grasshopper / Jan 15 2009 9:29 am

    “Upward Escape Pose”…That’s just funny!

    Is that not what it’s called? I am rusty on my yoganese.

  12. shmode / Jan 15 2009 8:22 am

    I dread those moments of being stuck like that. At least you pointed out the problem in a manner of speaking and it’ll get fixed for the next gal, you were doing a service for your fellow stallmates – Bravo! *snort*

    I think I panicked.

  13. sandysays1 / Jan 15 2009 8:02 am

    Love your story! Being caught anywhere is not fun. It seems bathrooms have some type connection to imprisonment. You might want to read one of my old posts, “Caught in the Pot.” visit me at for some laughs.

    I will check it out…thanks!

  14. Ian / Jan 15 2009 6:55 am

    You know, my cats have a tendency to LEAP out of their litter box and RUN away from it as fast as they can after using it.

    Your story gives me the same imagery. LOL

    I had cats that did that. Thank goodness we humans don’t poop in a big box of sand.

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