Wednesday, January 25, 2012
My Adventure with Breaking and Entering
They make it look so easy in the movies and TV shows, right? All you have to do is swipe a credit card through the door and it will make the door pop right open. Or insert a hair pin into the lock and click, you are in. Work case scenario, find the window that is unlocked, and climb right in.
Well, let me tell you. The reality is so much harder then that. This is my story of trying to break and enter into my own home.
When I moved into my mother's basement after my split from the dimwit (I love the endearing nicknames I have for him now) she had installed a lock on the door to my little apartment. However, with us being family, I told her I have no intent of locking that door and that she might as well keep the key. It's worked out great so far. Until a few days ago.
I had a day off from work when I went upstairs to her part of the house to raid her fridge (as I was behind on grocery shopping and had nothing but lettuce in my fridge). When I came down to the basement, I learned that the lock had jammed, locking me out of my little apartment.
Joey looked at me expectantly through the glass in the door. His tail wagged, and he happily barked while doing the "I have to go pee pee" dance. I tried to get into my living space but couldn't. I tried hitting the door, turning the knob hard, getting Joey to paw at the lock in hopes of unlocking it. Nothing worked.
So I went back to my mom's kitchen in search of the key. After ransacking through half the kitchen and finding a good twenty spare keys, I tried every single one in the door. And nothing! NADA! None of those keys worked.
Plan B. Find a window I could crawl in through.
There I went, in nothing but my pj's, pink robe, and fluffy white slipped, into the cold snow covered backyard. I walked to my kitchen window, but that one would be hard to break into. After observing all windows, I decided that the bathroom window was my best bet. Even if it was locked, if I happened to break the lock, that window was under the deck and it wouldn't be noticeable if I broke it. So there I was, trying to pry that window open. My slippers were wet and the snow stung my toes.
The damn lock wouldn't budge, and the window refused to open.
Plan C. Get the neighbors to help. At that time, I looked at the clock and realized that almost two hours had passed since I locked myself out, and another four hours until my mother would come home. Sure, I could just wait in her living room, but as I really didn't want to be cleaning up Joey's pee pee anytime soon, I decided bothering the neighbors was actually a pretty good plan.
However, at that point, I had worked up a sweat and really needed a shower. So I went to my mom's part of the house, showered in her bathroom, put on her makeup, and dressed in her jeans and shirt. It's a good thing she had a bag of my old underwear and bras in her closet. That was from my days of undies and bra addiction, a very nice collection that I had left behind after I moved out three years ago. Anyway, after I got dressed, I put on my mom's oversized boots, and looking like a clown in those boots, I went to the neighbors house to use their phone.
My mom told me where she placed the key to that lock (she has so many places where she puts keys, I'm surprised she even knows where she puts them) and it was a place I hadn't looked at. So I finally got into my apartment, and no one was as happy as Joey. I don't think that dog ever got as exited about being let out.
Now your turn. Have you ever locked yourself out?