Last week I went out with friends to a pub, which turned out to be so disability unfriendly it was funny. You know when you encounter situations is so bad you end up laughing at it? This was one of those.
Having noted that the toilets were up a set of stairs, and that the platform lift was the home of high chairs, we asked the staff if they could move them off the lift so I could use it. This was the point when I found out that the reason the high chairs had overtaken it - the lift hadn't worked in years - brilliant! Apparently the head office were aware of this but hadn't done anything about it despite being told a number of times.
To the stairs! With the help of Ben and a drunk (but lovely!) customer I got up the stairs, clutching the banister and Ben lugging the chair up the stairs, and made my way to the loo.
Ah, the loo. On first glance seemingly harmless but on actual use an accident waiting to happen. As I was leaning on the drop down bar, the following happened:
Yes, that is the drop down bar on the floor, which I believe is the incorrect place for it. Luckily I was holding onto another bar as well, which DIDN'T fall out of the wall, otherwise it could have been a painful face-plant to the floor.
The almighty crash was followed by Ben's voice floating through the door:
"Sanchia? Are you all right?!"
"I'm fiiiine...I may have broken something..."
Fleeing the scene of chaos, I returned to my table whilst he went to explain that their accessible toilet may be a bit, erm, broken.
The staff themselves were lovely though and gave us the head office's number.
I didn't get a free pudding though, grrr.
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