Episode XLIII: Locked Up!

So last night Amanda and I went to a park near my house, then walked to a local sports bar and grill to watch the Lakers play (as you may recall, I have no television). The place was kind of a dive (although it had a sweet TV), and it seems as though the chili-cheese tater tots did not agree with Amanda, because as soon as we got back to the park, she urgently had to use the restroom.

Fortunately, the restrooms were still open. Unfortunately, Lawrence parks close at 11 p.m., and we were there at about 11:05 p.m.

As soon as I washed my hands and walked out of the restroom, a man hurried over to the door, fiddled with the handle, then ran back to his truck and sped off. It took me about 30 seconds to realize that he had just locked the restroom behind me, and another 5 seconds to realize that he had just locked the restroom in front of Amanda. That is, my girlfriend had just been locked in the public restroom at Centennial park, at 11:10 p.m.

Well as you can imagine, that made for a pretty exciting night! Amanda immediately called the police, who showed up in less than ten minutes (pretty impressive for a Saturday night in a college town). The officer pulled up with a bewildered, bemused look on his face. He called someone whom he instructed to find the park manager, then he busted some late night revelers at the park, and then he just sat around and hung out with us.

Word must have gotten out that some girl had managed to get locked in the bathroom, because a second officer came by, and was outright laughing. He cheerfully posed with Amanda, hung out for a while and went off to another call.

We were joined for a few minutes by the aforementioned revelers, who seemed to have a great deal of difficulty understanding how someone could get locked in a bathroom. Other than that, we were just waiting, killing time and talking to the remaining officer.

Almost exactly one hour later, to the minute, a park manager showed up, and with no more than a curt word or two, opened the door, scurried back to his car and left. Thus ended a rather eventful night. The officer went back to his car, no doubt happy to have been paid for an hour well spent. Amanda and I went back to the car and went home.

I was impressed by the friendliness and hospitality of the cops, and by the courage and good nature of my temporarily imprisoned girlfriend. One thing is for certain at least: she will always have a good, embarrassing bathroom story to tell. Which is, I think, something we can all appreciate.