I write red-faced, red-worded, red-penned full blown blushing embarrassment.
No I wont tell.
Ok, I will tell.
Promise never to mention it again.
Ok here goes: I was caught with my pants down.
There, I said it. If you laugh I will delete it.
It was in the toilet for the disabled at Heathrow’s terminal 5 airport.
I might look funny but I am not disabled.
Nothing I could do would make my enormous suitcase and heavy hand luggage on the airport trolley fit through the door of an ordinary toilet. Instructions are clear never to leave your luggage unattended. Booking- in time was one hour away and the liquid hot chocolate time bomb I had consumed was set to go off any minute.
Could a country kick an able body out for using a disabled toilet?
Guilt verses a full bladder.
My aim for the big door toilet clashed with that of a bearded man. I saw him clearly. He was not disabled either. I catch a formula one turn with my trolley and change direction. Toilet engaged.
I do a funny pinch walk while convincing myself and my bladder that we can make it. That did not last long so I headed back for the disabled toilet.
The coast was clear.
In my eagerness to camouflage me and what I had I almost pulled the building down with a trolley that would not reverse or turn and clung to the side of the door like a stubborn child who did not want to go in there.
I made it.
I made it!
In relaxed privacy I inspected the surroundings and noted a big mirror on the one wall. Not flattering. No, not flattering. My eyes went around the room. No, it would have gone around the room, when it was about to pass the door area the door flew open.
I locked eyes with the bearded man for what seemed to be an hour.
It was not a pretty sight.
That is me.
Oh toilet, flush me down.
My eyes were cast down when I left the area.
When my wild runaway thoughts thought that he might be seated next to me on the plane to SA I finally burst out laughing.
There must be a funny side to this!