My husband and I sometimes go for breakfast, at a quiet little garden centre at Loddiswell, Devon…….about 10 miles (20 mins) away, from our home. It’s a very country lane drive,that sometimes has lorries…..Loddiswell doesn’t have big roads. Sometimes we get held up,when traffic is busy and lorries are involved. Not surprising I needed a wee when we got there.
I headed to the loo on arrival. Andy, my hubster waited outside.🚾
On leaving the loo I was shocked and panicked to find the door completely jammed and it wouldn’t budge.
It was a half glazed door, so I could see Andy and he could see me.
He made a hand gesture (Not the one you’re thinking of) waving and flexing his fingers. I didn’t understand!
I looked at the other side……yes, the hinge side, for a handle,…….it was at this point I thought about screwdrivers? The bar on the door didn’t move when I depressed it…….when I say depressed, I don’t mean sad,though the door probably was a bit sad! I searched high and low for a handle, it was at this point Andy just pushed open the door.
It just didn’t even occur to me to ‘pull’ .
As I’m nearing my sixties ,I do experience more and more lapses of sense…..it is my age isn’t it?