Knock Knock, Who’s There?

Explain this to me. You know when you go to the gents? And there is that little sign-y thing on the lock on the door? The one that says “Vacant” when the stall is vacant or “Engaged” when there is someone inside? And then you stand there and look at it and it says “engaged” and not “vacant”?  And you then wonder, “Hmmm. Could this stall be vacant by any chance?” and so you knock? Yeah. Explain to me what the hell is up with that. I need to know.

Because I can get how a mistake can be made and the sign-y thing can say “vacant” when the stall is, in truth, engaged, but by what conceivable means could it say “engaged” when there is nobody inside? Do you presume that it became sentient at some point during the day and is moving on its own as it tries to escape? Do you think that somebody has developed telepathic powers because Heroes was based on a true story and they are him moving toilet signy parts from the outside so as to confuse those other toilet users who are not as alert as you are? Do you suspect that someone got in and switched it to “engaged” and was then raptured? How can it be possible for the sign to say “engaged” unless the loo is actually, at that point in time, engaged?

Yet you still knock, because you want confirmation that there is somebody there. Why?

Did you stand there and think, “The evidence of my eyes suggests that this loo stall is engaged, but, funny, I don’t smell anything. Let me knock and see if there really is a person there.”

Okay, there is one plausible explanation. You might think that, as is increasingly a habit these days, I’ve locked myself in the stall to take a nap and balance off my sleep debt with no regard for the needs of your bowels. After all your bowels don’t feature highly in the process of prioritisiation I use to make my decisions. So you may be knocking to wake me up. But if that is the case, don’t bother.

When I go to nap in the gents, I take headphones.