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Tales from the 'life is like this' collection

UP MARKET IN DOWNHAM

New to Kings Lynn, we took ourselves off to an auction at Downham Market.And what fun it was - but after an hour or so, I realised that I needed to obey the call of nature. Quickly. Unfortunately the auction room did not provide a WC, so I was directed to the town square convenience 'by the clock'. Off I marched in some considerable haste.

Very soon the clock came into view, and I expected to see the usual brick-type building nearby, but nothing remotely like it could I see. With some urgency, I asked a passer by of its whereabouts. 'Oh, just there', she pointed further, 'But it is a bit strange. I've never used it'.

My heart sank. Struggling with a complicated loo when one is desperate is just not funny.So I walked a few paces more, and there in all its modern, unrecognisable splendour stood THE CONVENIENCE. I stared at it, gleaming in its space age glory.

At least no payment was needed, but on the steel door was a contraption which looked like a set of traffic lights. Or was it an air-lock? Half afraid to venture further, but with necessity driving me on I turned the door knob and entered, hoping for the best when the time came to leave.

Immediately I found myself caged in a metal cell, and was perplexed to see a huge steel hopper-like trough (with no seat) yawning in front of me. Panic began to set in. Where was I supposed to sit? How could I sit?

Was the visit timed? Would some pre-recorded voice tell me that my allotted span was up before I had finished, let alone started? The thought of perhaps being on live CCTV whilst in the act dried the mouth.

Lifting my eyes to the rear of the cabin, I was alarmed to see a huge black Leviathan of a seat rising up on a vertically sprung 'rocker'. It took me several seconds to grasp that to avail oneself of a perch, this contraption had to be pulled down from the wall. So I began pulling, only to realise that pressure had to be kept on it at all times, or it would spring back automatically!

And as I wasn't quite prepared to sit, I had to let the rocker return to its wall position to adjust my clothing. Would I make it? I was sure that an unseen clock was ticking. By now, my bladder and I were in extremis. I fumbled desperately, and at last ready for action pulled down the black plastic and sat tight. So far, so good. Nothing could go wrong now, could it?

But imagine my horror when in fraught action and feeling anything but calm, the door flew open and there I was revealed and exposed to all in Downham Market square. I hadn't shut the escape hatch properly! The air-lock hadn't worked!

Without ceremony, I yanked the door shut on a startled lady customer and shouted 'Sorry!' - which we Brits seem to do anyway whether we are at fault or not - and resumed my task.

Panic took over again, and I began to sweat with anxiety - but thankfully after a few more seconds and no more incidents, I was ready to rise. Nimbly I avoided the Leviathan as it sprang back aggressively to its home against the wall. No problem so far, but I felt time was running out before I might be locked in for good.

Now, to flush or not to flush? I stared transfixed into the hopper, and magically (there was no obvious manual mechanism), water spewed into its jaws from a right angled spout on the side of the cell. Despite the trauma of it all, I was enthralled - a flusher with a brain!

But where could I wash my hands? Suddenly, a gush of H2O squirted horizontally from a second spout over the hellish bowl, and I managed to catch a few drops before deciding to beat a quick retreat from this alien place.

Yet there was one more hurdle - would my exit be quick enough through the air-lock? Well, yes it was, and I stepped back gratefully into the real world, genuinely relieved. And without a backward glance I scurried off quickly before having to confront the possibility of meeting the visitor to my watery cell a few minutes before. Ah,success!

Now I'm not sure when I'll be back to the posh loos in Downham alone - a trusted sentry at the escape hatch seems a good idea to me - but rather like a nervous flyer, the experience should be better next time around!