He came at me...

...brandishing a knife...

I am sitting on the disabled toilet. I have used my Radar Key to get in. I have locked the door once inside.

My jeans and knickers are down and I am about to relieve a full bladder when someone is moving the door handle up and down.

‘There’s someone in here,’ I shout.
But the handle keeps going up and down as though someone is trying to get in.

Being deaf I have no idea if someone’s is speaking on the other side of the door.

I yell again, ‘There’s someone in here.’

Then suddenly this man comes in brandishing a knife pointing at me.

‘Get out. Get out.’ I scream at him.

‘Oh is there someone in here,’ he said, looking at me sitting on the toilet with my garments down, my urgent wee stopped suddenly in full flow. He is fully in the toilet standing in front of me. ‘The door was locked so I used a knife to unlock it. How did you get in here?’ the man says.

He is still holding the knife pointing at me.

I scream, ‘GET OUT’.

So he shrugs his shoulders and walks out, but doesn’t have the decency to shut the door on the way out.

So, I pull my knickers and jeans up. I forgo washing hands because I want to catch him.

When I get out of the Disabled Toilet, the whole of the W***********s pub is staring at me.

The man has disappeared.

Then it dawns on me. The other customers in the pub were probably not aware of the situation and maybe thought I was up to shenanigans with someone in a Disabled toilet.

I just got the hell out of the place.

It was a cutlery knife he was using to break into the disabled toilet, but he did carry on pointing it at me. And he didn’t get out immediately he saw I was sitting on the toilet.

I was going to the bar to complain and the bartender looked shocked as though maybe he had given the knife to the man in the first place, and he disappeared when I looked at him...

I had only had a breakfast and no coffee because I didn’t want to use the Disabled toilet. But I still needed to go.

I don’t like Disabled toilets. I once found a down and out asleep in one, and on another occasion a body that was obviously not going to move again (fortunately I saw a police car nearby), and on another occasion I came out of the disabled toilet to a deserted hospital waiting room which now had the lights dimmed (and which had been teeming moments before) and then this burly fireman came though a door and bodily got me out of the building (I am deaf, I cannot hear fire alarms and there was no visual warning sign in that Disabled toilet).

I could write a book on ‘Experiences with a Disabled Toilet’. There was one fuel garage where I went to use the Disabled Toilet and I could barely get in. Why? Because the garage owner had stored boxes and boxes of crisps from floor to ceiling in that Disabled Toilet....