Mind the Doors

In the middle of our action planning session today, Lyndsey, the other half of the UK delegation, popped back to our room to get her i-pad.  She hadn’t reappeared after nearly half an hour, and I was wondering where she had got to.  I went back to the room.  The bathroom door was locked.  Here is what ensued –

                “Are you ok Lyndsey?”

                “Yes.  But I’m stuck in the toilet.  The lock has broken.”

I dashed to reception to ask for help.  It is only now, having analysed the conversation with my fellow delegates this evening, that I understand the confusion which arose.  I used to be quite good at French, but now I am a bit rusty.  I can do the basics, but need to improve.  The hotel staff were slow in coming to Lyndsey’s rescue, but I realise now that this was because I said ‘my friend Lyndsey is hiding in the toilet”, rather than “my friend Lyndsey is stuck in the toilet”.  Once I had established that help was required, three men came, with batons of varying sizes, and proceeded to hack chunks of the bathroom door to facilitate Lyndsey’s eventual freedom.  It transpired that a fourth man, who had the key which would have opened the lock from the outside, had “gone”.  I’m not clear if he had gone off-site momentarily, left for the day, left his employment here some time ago, or died.  Either way, he wasn’t around.    

It is very late now and I have to sleep for a bit, but will continue this later, so I hope you don’t mind waiting a few more hours for the remainder of today's instalment…. Goodnight.