On being a general disaster...

On Friday, I did an oral history for the museum. The woman I was scheduled to interview lived in a four story assisted living community in north Dallas. I arrived shortly after 2:30 in the afternoon.

After I set up all my equipment and chatted with the interviewee for a few minutes, the oral history was ready to begin. The interviewee, however, wanted to grab a couple of photos to show on camera, and I used the brief lull in the conversation to excuse myself to use the facilities just off the master bedroom.

Upon completion of my business, I washed and dried my hands and turned to leave the bathroom. But something was wrong. The door handle wouldn’t turn. I was locked inside.

After four or five attempts, I finally accepted the fact that I needed help and knocked on the door. The interviewee’s daughter came running, and tried to push the door open from the other side.

Interviewee’s daughter: “Is the lock turned on the inside?”

Me: “Actually, there isn’t a lock.”

Interviewee’s daughter: “Are you holding the knob?”

Me: “No. Want me to try pulling again from this side?”

Interviewee’s daughter: “Sure.”

[Pause while I pulled on the door from the inside…]

Interviewee’s daughter: “Any luck?”

Me: “No. The knob won’t turn at all.”

Interviewee’s daughter: “Hold on. Let me go and find a screwdriver…”

Long story short: the interviewee’s daughter had to essentially disassemble the door to liberate me from the bathroom. All in all, I was trapped in the bathroom for about fifteen minutes.

I bring a whole new level of professionalism to the museum, I swear.

Luckily, both the interviewee and the interviewee’s daughter found humor in the situation, and the subsequent interview went off without a hitch.

Note to self: if you have to pee before an interview, use a public restroom or just HOLD IT!