First of all, what happened to knocking? Where do you come from where people find out if a room is occupied by trying to barge right in, rattling the door handle, pulling, pushing, even giving it a firm shoulder? In case you were wondering, most people shrink from aggression, so not only is the door still locked, but now you're making my bladder nervous, putting the whole mission in jeopardy, and there's no way I'm walking out of here without flushing something.
And another thing: Do you come from a planet where door locks open a few minutes after you try to break-in? I can hear you outside on your phone, I know it's the same person trying the door every few minutes. Where's your brain? You'll be able to see me when I leave. Really, I promise. And if you keep trying the door you'll see me punching you in the ribcage.
What I really don't understand about all this, let's just think about the consequences for a moment. You've already established, three times now, that the door is locked, and because this is the door to the toilet, that means someone, me, actually, is currently using the toilet. Now let's imagine that somehow, miraculously, Lord God of Hosts, the door opens on your next rattle. What does that get you? We already know I'm using the toilet, so you still have to wait, but now I'm screaming at you to get out and shut the door, and your screaming because you just saw me on the toilet (yes my underpants really do say "If you're here, you'd better be queer"), and now your friend on the phone is screaming (she sounds like a rabbit being hit by a car, P.S.), and as I lunge forward to slam the door it hits your hand and you drop your phone, so now it's covered in toilet floor and everyone in Starbucks just saw that and will judge you forever if you don't immediately bin it.
Except you can't, because now the door is shut again and locked fast and I'm even holding it closed, because, as I've learned, once a toilet-door-rattler, always a toilet-door-rattler. Can you hear me on the inside? I'm calling everyone I know in Turkmenistan, which is really only one person, but the rates are so expensive this one call will incur the equivalent of a small car loan.
Oh and by the way, now when you rattle the door handle, I can't hear what my friend is saying, and every time he has to repeat "Yes, I'm fine, and we've just bought a new goat!" it costs you about 25 quid. Pucker-up, butter-cup.