Disaster 1241 words

Graham Hadfield

Why did I do it? Me of all people knows how dangerous it is to try and help somebody. The most likely outcome of holding back a thorny branch to let others through is for it to snap back and slap you in the face the moment you let it go. Years ago I used to have a design studio. The usual price we charged was £500 for a quick stationery design job. An old lady came in clutching a tatty business card. “I hope you told her to go somewhere else,”my designers told me. “No”, I replied, “I felt sorry for her and offered to do it for £30.”

Usually our sophisticated clients would make a few minor corrections and then accept the result. This old lady, who probably lived in a house full of chintz and had no visual sense whatsoever, sent it back time and again wasting hours of our time. And I’d already given her the price. My designers were furious with me. I didn’t even get the £30. My staff insisted it went into their drinks fund. Back to the story.

I was just about to enter my gym. The only entry points are what looks like two vertical glass coffins. I’d used the gym app on my iPhone to read the QR code and the door had opened for me to enter. At that moment I spotted a young man and a young woman who looked as if they were having trouble entering the gym. I turned to them to ask them whether they wanted me to get an assistant once I got inside to help them, and at that moment the door closed without me having a chance to enter.

Disasters often start in this way, one momentary lapse leading to a chain of events out of all proportion to the original action. “No we are fine”, they said. Looking back I may have been subliminally influenced by the fact that this was a very attractive young woman who’d come to the gym to further tone an already beautiful body. I held up my iPhone again to read the QR code. It gave me an error message. After several more fruitless attempts the young man helpfully interjected. “It’s no use, the app thinks you are already inside”

“Oh shit”, I thought, its been programmed by one of the gym instructors. Things now took an even worse turn. It wasn’t allowing me to get into the app on my phone. It was asking me for my 4 digit PIN number. The problem was that for a year now I had been using finger recognition and had no clue what the pin was. I tried a few guesses and then pressed the “forgotten pin” button.

The young man and the woman came over to me their faces full of concern. The situation had been completely reversed. Instead of a confident older man helping out some youngsters in a bind it was now two younger people trying to help out a doddery old pensioner. The humiliation was almost unbearable, particularly the caring tone of voice adopted by the young woman. Still I could at least recover my password, quickly get in and escape the situation.

Before giving me what I wanted, the 4 digit password. it required some details for security. The first thing it required was my email address. I typed it in. Invalid email address. Ah, probably there was a space at the end that it had included. Typed it in a few more times making absolutely sure that it was correct and there were no spaces being included. Still invalid email.

I was completely buggered and by this time starting to get desperate. What idiot had programmed this thing. And then a miracle happened. The door to the side opened and a cleaner came out dragging a large hoover behind him. I could nip in. Oh no I couldn’t. The cleaner was blocking my way. I explained the situation to him expecting him to stand aside. I’d managed to find a jobsworth. “I can’t let you in, its against the rules mate.”

Again I was completely stymied. He’d been completely unimpressed by my authoritative tone of voice. And then I had my only piece of luck all afternoon. “Could you let him in, he’s only in this situation because he tried to help us.” It was the beautiful young woman speaking. He visibly melted. Not wishing to appear a heal in her eyes he smartly stepped to one side. I was in. Once inside I managed to completely recover the situation. The young man was in difficulties lifting a heavy barbell while lying on his back on a bench. I helped him out by lifting the barbell off him using only one hand. His lady friend gave me a sweet smile. Actually that didn’t happen or it did but only in my imagination.

I wandered round the gym doing a circuit using the machines. As usual I was particularly fascinated by the vertical walking machine. It involves walking up moving stairs with one’s bottom pushed out at a provocative angle. This could provide a very pleasant visual experience if you could control who used it. Unfortunately fat people gravitated towards it in the mistaken belief that it would improve their shape. When they were using it, it was like watching a loose bag of soil go round in a cement mixer, not something you’d want to view on a full stomach. I glanced over to see a fat man clambering onto the machine. Oh no, put the defibrillator on standby.

As I was going round the gym I felt a sense of unease come over me. How was I going to get out? I had no access to my phone app and still didn’t know my 4 digit code. There was supposed to be a gym manager on duty but no one was to be seen.

Eventually it was time to leave and I approached the door that the cleaner had left by. Phew. It had a large sign. “To open the door press the red button.” I looked everywhere for that red button not daring to ask anyone and risk further humiliation. After a fruitless ten minutes of hunting around for it I was told by some regular gym goers the red button didn’t exist. “What the hell is this effing sign here for?”, I exploded in exasperation. “You have to phone the cctv operator, the number is on the wall”. someone explained helpfully. And that’s what I did.

“If you hold on a minute I will phone the on duty manager who is in the gym to come to the door to let you out”, said the cctv operator. “But the duty manger isn’t here,” I replied.

“He has to be otherwise he would have had to let us know”. By this time the cctv operator could see me with my head in my hands on the screen in front of him.

“Just remotely open the door and let me out” I said, which after a lot of faffing around he did. “Would you like me to get the gym people to phone you at home and sort this out, I’m only the cctv operator and cannot deal with it”, said the cctv man. “All I need is your name and PIN number”.

“If I knew my PIN number I wouldn’t have needed to phone you would I,” I exploded.

“Stupid me”, said the cctv operator.

For the first time all afternoon I smiled.