What do you do when someone turns off the lights while you’re in the bathroom stall? Yeah. It happened to me this evening.
Now, I should set this up by saying that, at our Kindom Hall, where I was this evening, we have been encouraged to watch expenses. One suggestion was that the lights in the restrooms could be turned off when the hall wasn’t in use. Good idea. After all, we turn out the lights at home when we aren’t using a room, right? Well, you do if you’re the one paying the electric bill. But, I think the key thought there is, when the hall is not in use.
So during the meeting tonight, I had to answer “the call” and headed to the men’s room to do what I had to do. I seem to recall that someone followed me in, but I didn’t pay much attention. I closed the stall door, took my seat, and listened to the program that was piped in through the speaker.
A few minutes later, as the other person left (and—I assume—forgot I was there,) the room went dark. Looking back, I suppose I could have called out that I was still in there, or something. As it was, I didn’t think of it quickly enough. The door closed. Darkness.
And I mean, that room is dark with the lights out. There really wasn’t much to do, though, except what I had come in to do, which I did… in the dark. As I finished and flushed… in the dark… I heard the door open and the lights came on. Good timing. I opened the stall door and stepped out.
My new restroom companion, Shawn, asked me if I had been in there in the dark. To which I said yes, adding that someone had turned out the lights on me. I didn’t want him to think I had some wierd thing about using the toilet in the dark. He speculated that it was a prank, maybe a kid.
Maybe, but by that point, I didn’t much care. There was no harm done, just an interesting experience.
Later on, as I related the events to Lydia, she began to howl with laughter and told me that I should blog about this. And that’s why you got to read about my journey into the heart of darkness.