Ok, three weeks in to writing this column and I’m struck with my first huge dilemma. You see, I dearly want to share one of the most embarrassing stories I heard last week with you.

However, if I do, one of my work colleagues may never speak to me again.

Oh, what the hell, live life dangerously I say. Now I warn you, it involves a delicate subject, so read on at your own peril.

We refer to it as the event that turned my ‘almost 30 year old colleague’ into a ‘whimpering terrified teenager’.

To protect my colleague and (after this, former) friend’s identity, I’m going to call her Sarah.

Imagine then, last weekend, Sarah – who is a confident professional – dressed up to the nines, was out enjoying dinner with friends when she suddenly realised she had eaten something that severely disagreed with her.

She made her excuses and rushed off as quickly as her high heels would let her to the ladies room, where she did, well, what she needed to do.

Thanking the heavens the convenience was quite large, and also quite empty, she was just reaching for the door handle to take her stealthy leave, when out of nowhere, a group of obviously very inebriated young ladies (I use the term ‘ladies’ very loosely) arrived and immediately started exclaiming about shall we say, the slight ‘bouquet’.

Sarah then did what any confident adult would do – quickly locked the door again and hid.

Inconvenient, but not awful she thought; all she had to do was wait them out, and quite clearly they would soon want another drink. But of course nothing in this life is ever that easy, so much to my friend’s absolute horror, the so-called ladies decided to make it their mission to find the culprit; and set about banging on every door in the bathroom to hunt the perpetrator down.

As she sat there terrified, Sarah said a strong voice inside her shouted “you’re not a teenager any more, you’re an adult! Stand up and walk out with your head held high”!

Did she? Of course not!

Instead, she sat silently, pulled her feet up and proceeded to get cramp, praying they would think her cubicle was out of service.

Hah! No such luck.

When the by then ‘almost baying pack’ reached her door, they proceeded to not only bang on it, but also loudly yelled ‘you’ve been in there a long time, is everything ok’?

Faced with no choice (and by now suffering from severe panic that they may climb on the loo next door and look over the top) Sarah called back with the witty response “ errr, I’m on the phone” .

This of course was greeted with calls of great disbelief, but fortunately one of THE pack’s mobile phones chose to ring at that very moment, giving them a piece of news that caused them to hurry outside.

So, as cheesey as it sounds, she actually was ‘saved by the bell’. After all of this then, what life lesson have we learned? That we all never really grow up? Yes, but more importantly – that the real reason women go to the ladies room in pairs is personal safety...