Prisoner of Tribu Tower

I stood in the hot humid bathroom cranking the handle. My wet hair leaked water onto my shoulders and down to my hands. The door made the same sound everytime I turned the handle, a spring-like noise that failed to release the latch. I was a prisoner in my own bathroom for who knows how long. I put my ear to the door to listen for my roommate walk by.
"Katie!?!? Help me I am stuck inside the bathroom!"
Katie worked the handle from the outside to no avail.
"Stand back!"
Katie threw her whole body into the door. A faint squeal of pain marked her failure to penetrate my cell. The water molecules in the air were cooling. It was starting to remind me of my trip to the jungles of Belize.
While Katie went to go call for help I looked into the foggy mirror. Make-up had dripped under my eyes and I looked like a drowned racoon. My hair was starting to curl and I was still wrapped in my damp towel.
"The caretaker and some technicians are coming."
Oh god. The thought of the caretaker seeing me in a towel lead me to quickly change back into the dirty jeans and t-shirt from earlier that day.
Some minutes later, the three french men stood outside the door and contemplated my liberation for quite some time. I sat on the dirty floor covered in hair and thought about how badly we need to mop. After at least ten minutes I moved back into the bathtub.
"They have gone to get a saw, hold tight."
I sat in the bathtub and smelled all of our beauty products. I didn't realize how good my roommates shampoo smelled. I must go buy some of my own.
Minute 40 passed in the bathtub and all I could think about my copy of the Da Vinci Code sitting outside the door. Oh why couldn't I have brought it into the bathroom with me. Why couldn't I be reading about Opes Dei instead of Sodium Lauryl Sulfate. What did I do to be smote like this!!!
As I smelled my conditioner by sqeezing the bottle a little squirted on my nose. At that very instant three french men with a saw and a drill burst through the door, to find me sitting in the empty bathtub with dark circles under my eyes, wet matted hair, wearing a dirty shirt, and conditioner dripping from my nose.
One never leaves prison with much digninty.