This afternoon, Mathilde took a bike and I took a trottinoire (a scooter in French is a moped), and we rode over to Stephanie's house. She is pretty much confined to her house in her wheelchair since her foot is still broken.
We hung out there for an hour or so. Right before we left, I announced that I was going to go use the toiled. Normally, people close the door when they do their business. Don't worry-there was a door, so I did not have to tinkle in before the entire world. The problem came when I attempted to open the door. I discovered that the knob was only one-sided and that not only was I confined, like Stephanie, to her house, but I was imprisioned in the WC! Lauging with a feeling of deja-vu, I banged on the door until Mathilde came to help me out. Fortunately for me, the one side of the door-knob still connected, had it's connection point on my side of the door. It took a good five minutes, but I finally escaped!
I think my addiction to water renders me vulerable to these types of encounters. It seems inevitable that wherever I go, the toilet has it in for me!
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