There's a line. I'm third. There are problems with the door. It doesn't want to close; it wants to make sure everything is safe.
I finally get in. I look around. I press the button.
It is of course the emergency button to summon help.
The light turns green. The door stays open. A little voice comes over the speaker.
"Was that pushed in error?"
Suddenly I'm Han Solo on the Death Star, covering while Luke gets Leia out of the ... well, prison cell, but one with doors that shut. "Uh, no error here, everything all right, perfectly normal, sorry about that ..."
"No problem," the conductor says.
We continue to sit at the station with the door wide open. The train's not moving. Good lord, I wish the door would shut. I push the button, the push the button again (no, not the other button). Finally, the door opens.
I sit down, my pants around my knees so fast you'd think my sailor was back on shore leave.
The door opens almost immediately and a man starts to step inside the room. "That toliet is occupied!" says a helpful young woman in the hall. I sit there with my pants around my knees, psychically willing the doors to shut again. Good lord, I'm exposed to a trainload of strangers. Perhaps if I keep waiting the door will shut.
I finally get up and pull my pants up, and press CLOSE CLOSE CLOSE and LOCK LOCK LOCK mutherfucking door. It stays open. We're just pulling out of Clapham Junction and Putney is coming up and JEEZUS GODS I HAVE TO PEE SHUT GODDAMNIT! And the door shuts.
About fifteen seconds later I am done and out and SURE that this all is going to wind up on YouTube even though the girl in the hall is claiming I was very dignified and I handled myself well though shadowdaddy is saying he wished he had a recording of my yelp from when the door opened. Oh Lord, "My humiliating vacation in England," did she get it on her cell phone? When we all got off in Putney, I tried so hard to disappear into the crowds ...