July 20, 2011

I went all Irma Vep on it.

Filed under: HA!, PolenBabble — Twin C @ 10:31 am

At 8:45 this morning, for the first time since college (I think), I locked myself out of my apartment, having neglected to grab my keys and wallet before taking the garbage out. I cursed a lot, because I had a 9:30 am meeting that I was going to be able to make with time to spare, except now, not so much.

I called my landlord, who said he could be there around 1:00 pm. That wasn’t going to work. I called the super, who said that he didn’t have a master key and he was in Manhattan, and that he usually used a credit card to break into people’s apartments when they locked themselves out, but since my wallet was in the apartment, that wasn’t going to do me any good either. I called Twin B, but he was at work. I wasn’t about to call PSB, since she already was having an insane morning and I didn’t need to add to her stress.

I then realized - sure, I didn’t have a credit card, but I did have my work ID, which should work just fine. I got to work on the door, but didn’t quite know what I was doing. I called the super back to ask how he did it, and he said “Put the card in by where the handle is and try to push the latch open - the door should just open up if you do it right.” So I tried again, but it still didn’t work.

It was 10,000 degrees in the hallway and I was getting more and more frustrated, and to make matters worse, my cell phone was dying. (In retrospect, this was not actually such a big deal, since I had my work Blackberry with a full battery if it came to that.) I decided to call a locksmith. I called the first number that came up when I searched “Brooklyn locksmith”, but the service I reached must have been 1-800-SLOWEST LOCKSMITH IN THE UNIVERSE, because it took the guy 15 minutes to take my information, and then he said a technician would call me back with an estimated arrival time. After 15 more minutes of waiting and sweating and cursing, I decided to go back at it with my ID, which was now looking a little worse for wear.

30 seconds later, the door popped open. I cheered, grabbed my keys and wallet, said goodbye to Hamilton, who had been calling to me wondering what was going on, and ran to work, where I made it in just in time to miss the end of the meeting. (I let them know I wasn’t going to make it via Blackberry.)

So now I’m at work, feeling much better, and actually a little bad ass at being able to jimmy my way into my own apartment. Tonight I will feel even more bad ass, when I have my poker lesson with Annie Duke. I then have to go pick up Harry, bring him home, meet up with the sitter, and then head back in for the Moth show tonight, where Annie will be telling a story. I can’t wait!

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