So this weekend I got locked in a bathroom.
I went to this dive bar with some friends and upon arrival, I made a beeline for the ladies. Or should I say, the only bathroom in the place. The door had a deadbolt and no lock on or above the handle. It looked kinda like this but without the actual lock:

and much older and much much rustier
So I try to shut and lock the door, but the deadbolt at the top won’t shut because the door is so warped it won’t close all the way. No problem there, I just hip-checked it shut and forced the deadbolt to close.
I did my thing, washed my hands and went to slide the deadbolt open. Nothing. It wouldn’t move, not even a BUDGE. I tried to put all my incredible upper strength into moving it (I DID just carry a full grown pitbull up five flights of stairs-but that’s a whole other story) to no avail. I got the sliver of soap from the sink and tried to lube up the lock and it worked!! The deadbolt slid open, I congratulated myself for thinking fast and I tried to make my escape.
But again, resistance. The door knob wasn’t wanting to turn. After several fruitless attempts at simply rattling the door knob in hopes of freeing myself, I took a closer look. Somehow the door knob – the one that didn’t have a way for me to lock – was locked.

YEAH
I stood for a minute, perplexed. Was this really happening? Was I actually locked in this disgusting bathroom? Yes. And I didn’t have a cell phone. So I did what any normal person would do and started banging on the door, hoping someone could hear me above the random 90′s music blaring from the speakers.
I finally heard a muffled voice ask “are you stuck in there?” and I responded in the affirmative. Then the genius told me to unlock the door. Ummm…OH?! Wait, really? He thought I just didn’t know how to use the lock? Apparently this was a common misconception as more and more bar patrons implored me to unlock the door. PEOPLE.
My friend C, fueled by vodka and a close, personal relationship with Crossfit, shouted she was going to kick the door down. I stood back, the door shuddered, I heard a muffled wince of pain then all was silent again. It was a valiant effort though.
I repeatedly yelled through the door that it wasn’t the dead bolt that was locked, it was the actual lock. I could hear people discussing the situation outside, wondering how drunk I was (I wasn’t) and if I knew how to open a door (I did). Finally someone passed me a screwdriver under the door and I got to work. I got the door knob unscrewed and taken off and immediately looked through it into the face of my friends. I wanted to demand a straw be stuck through the hole-with a vodka soda on the other end, but I figured I should just keep trying to get out of there.
Even though the door knob had been completely separated from the door itself, the lock was still firmly in place. After being passed a knife and trying to pry the thing open, I sat down and contemplated my options. I could try to get through the air ducts-I’d seen it done plenty of times before on tv-but there wasn’t even a way to get up there.
Finally I heard someone yell “COVER YOUR EYES” which didn’t make any sense to me but they were already closed (I was pretending to be at the bar beach) so I kept them shut until I heard the door crash open. I was rescued!!!!
The bartender told me that the door randomly locks from time to time (um, fix that?!), and then spent the rest of the night ignoring me even though he told me that all our drinks were on the house.