David Leggat's ordeal began one wintery day at the Kittybrewster and Woodside Bowling Club, where locals gather to do whatever the hell bowling means in the UK. (Like ... there's no way it's actually bowling, right? Those freaks call everything something weird).
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For example, they call this "Food."
Leggat ducked out to the loo (see?!), and after draining the ol' gentleman's sausage, he discovered that the inner door handle had jammed, instantly transforming the tiny bathroom into a cold, dark cell. With no cell phone and no doting wife at home to worry about his whereabouts, Leggat was in serious trouble. But the retired teacher knew that no Scotsman has ever been defeated by a bathroom, so for four long days he endured, surviving on intermittent sips of tap water. The bathroom -- lit only during the daylight hours by a skylight above his head -- became an isolation chamber, and Leggat fought off the chill by dipping his feet in a basin of hot water.
"I should've used the women's bathroom while no one was looking. At least they've got a couch."