Office Shenanigans

The office is a cursed place...or maybe it's me that's cursed. In the past year, I have broken one chair completely, and busted three wheels from the current chair I have-in three separate mishaps (each time fixed by the nice maintenance guy, Jose), and had the "talking chair" that would shriek each time I moved...the squeak was fixed (thereby returning sanity to all occupants of the office) by Jose and salvation in the form of a can of WD-40. I have yet to completely obliterate a computer, but a new day brings many surprises. Today my "break stuff" curse reared it's ugly head in perhaps the most embarrassing/funny manifestation yet. Let me paint a picture...better yet, I'll just show the picture:

"Is that...a DOOR HANDLE in your hand?? One that's totally detached from the door???" you ask. Yes, I would submit to you that it is, indeed, a door handle pulled COMPLETELY free of the door that it should be securely fastened to. The question that naturally follows is, "What door is it from??". The answer to that question is why this story made me slightly red-faced...and not so slightly giggly. This is the inside door handle to the three-stall restroom down the hall from my office. That's right, INSIDE door handle. As I was leaving the restroom, and it's OTHER occupant, I pulled the handle from the door in some sort of feat of strength that I was in no way striving to accomplish. As I stared at the metal that was in my hand and no longer where it was supposed to be, I realized that I was now trapped in the bathroom, and someone else that I didn't know was also trapped in there with me. I tried a few times to pull the door open, but soon realized that it wasn't going to happen as my fingers were not small enough to get in the crack between the door and the frame, and pulling on the metal arm at the top of the door wasn't working out so well either. I had to swallow my pride, pull my cell phone from my pocket, and phone my friend Steph at her desk to come push the door open so the captives could go free. Once that call was made, I documented the event with the same saving cell phone (hence the lovely picture above). After Steph freed us from our privy prison, we propped the door open (so that other ladies would know that something was amiss in the loo), I walked back to my department to tell the ladies in my office of my misfortune. Steph had not been called out to free me from a bathroom stall...nooooooo, she was called out to free me from the BATHROOM. As I showed my doorprize (haha), there were loud guffaws, and even a few tears...of mirth. Once I was in control of myself, I went to find Jose to tell him that I had yet another thing for him to fix. I found him down at the ladies, scratching his head over the missing handle. As I gave him back the handle, he felt my bicep and told me I was too strong. I don't know about too strong (clumsy might be a more apt description for me!), but I do know that I will approach every door with such a handle with a bit more trepidation.