The Law of Sod

The Gorse Fox joined colleagues at a pleasant hostelry in Camberwell. It was a necessary stop to check on the quality of their ales before heading off for something to eat. The restaurant that we had chosen was opposite the hotel in which the Gorse Fox has been staying this week, and so the Gorse Fox thought it sensible to drop off his bag before rejoining his colleagues at the restaurant.

He approached the lift and joined the queue of two people waiting. "This must be the slowest lift in England" he observed after a few moments. One of the companions nodded. He gave up and headed for the stairs. The Gorse Fox waited, and waited. Eventually he too gave up and headed for the stairs.

Arriving at his room he inserted his key card. The light flashed green and the Gorse Fox pushed the door. It had decided to do an imitation of a wall and stayed firmly closed. He tried again, the light flashed green again. The door remained wall-like. One further try had the same result.

The Gorse Fox headed down to reception and explained his plight. The head receptionist gave him a withering look and told him to "wait there". She disappeared round the back and fetched a master key card and some physical keys. "Follow me" she instructed.

We headed back to the lift. Evidently it would not dare keep her waiting and opened its doors instantly. We head back to the room. "Show me" she instructed. The Gorse Fox repeated the procedure. The door remained shut.

She tried. The door remained shut.

She tried her key. The door remained shut.

Then she took a more direct approach - she inserted the key, turned the handle and charged the door with her shoulder. The door burst open. "Well there you are" she said, turning on her heals and walking out - flustered. The bag was placed in the room, and the Gorse Fox returned to join Deep Blue and another colleague for a pleasant meal in the restaurant across the road.