It was a slow afternoon at work today, and I left a bit early so that I could get to the gym before the Big Gym Guys got there and monopolised all of the cardio equipment. (If there's any monopolising to be done, it will be by me.) As is my routine, I stopped on the way to the changing room to get a bottle of water from the vending machine.
Now, I've done this lots of times and I've never had any difficulties. And why should I have? It's a vending machine, not some high-tech piece of machinery that takes a Ph.D. to operate. But today, when I put my hand through the little metal door to retrieve my bottle of water, I got stuck. Not only could I not get the bottle out, I couldn't get my hand out. I tugged. I wiggled. I eased. I panicked....nope, still stuck. I began to think about shouting for help - oh, the shame - but then, in my desperation, inspiration hit. I just needed to let go of the bottle.
Yes, I was hanging onto the bottle for dear life. My clenched fist got me stuck and kept me stuck. Once I let go of the bottle, I was able to release myself with only minor difficulty. I then had to brave the little metal door again so that I could rescue the water. I had a brief moment of panic when I went in up to my elbow trying to find the bottle, but I did manage to extricate myself with no further reversion to buffoonery or need to call out the fire department.
Going to the gym. It's always an adventure.