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When I did my 2x5 hours of potwashing at a pub across town I often worried about being locked in the walk-in freezer. For some time after I ran screaming from the place I would lie in my bed thinking of ways in which to survive the 10ish hours between closing and opening in a sub-zero environment wearing a (secondhand and unwashed) chef's uniform.

I thought of several possiblities ranging from trying to bash down the door, to disabling the refrigeration unit, to covering myself in whatever I could find in the freezer to keep me super-zero until the place opened for business the next day. And then some dark recess of my mind chipped in that the freezer might be air tight.

When I mentioned all this to my mum quite a while later in passing she said:

"We would have found you"

Not once in all that time did it occur to me that someone would miss me.