“Got an old credit card you don’t need anymore?” Grinning from ear to ear, my neighbor explained he had locked himself out of his house.
Two expired gift cards later, my neighbor returns with no success. I volunteer to ask another neighbor (our resident handy man) if he has any tools that would allow my neighbor to break into his own unit, while my meeting mate and the unlucky locked out homeowner retreat to the utility room in search of a ladder. Upon returning to my home, to look up a locksmith’s number, as our mission is turning out to be a complete and utter failure, I’m greeted with a locked door to my own unit. Thinking it’s a joke, I knock to gain entry….only to discover, no one is actually inside. It turns out, one my neighbors has a nasty habit of locking bottom locks when entering or leaving homes, whether in his own home or not. Upon leaving my home to retrieve the ladder, he had locked me out of my apartment—as my keys sat on the table next to the door…inside the unit.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I yell.
Barefoot, inadequately dressed for the cool weather, cell phone free, and extremely frustrated I sit on the stairs outside my unit waiting patiently for my male counterparts to return with the ladder. Our resident handy man appears with a couple tools and starts to chuckle as he sees my unhappy and quite pouty face. He lays his tools outside of my door, and comments, that it looks to be a long night.
After about 15 minutes of unsuccessful jimmying of the lock, my neighbor exclaims that I must have locks of steel, because the door isn’t opening.
“Figures as much. The guy I bought the place from, was a locksmith. I had him replace the locks after closing, and I clearly got what I paid for.”
Listenting to elevator music, while on hold with the 23/7 locksmith, I remember that the side of the building sits on a grade that is higher than the other three sides, and might put my window within reach of the ladder (as my other neighbor is one floor above me and the ladder had proven to be a mere joke when it came to reaching his window). Reluctantly, the neighbor who had locked me out of my unit, trudged through the poison ivy to see if he could extend the ladder to my window. It was a bit of a stretch, but was worth the chance, as I was not looking forward to forking out several hundred dollars to have my lock drilled out and subsequently replaced at 11pm. Talk about some nice after hours surcharges.
I watched from the parking lot as the tallest of my three neighbors climbed each rung of the ladder, struggled with the window and then managed to hoist himself up.
Silently I chuckled, as I wished I had my camera. The mission had proven to be a success, but it was quite amusing to see my neighbor maneuvering head first through my tiny window, with legs dangling in thin air at a quarter til midnight. What a sight it must have been for our neighbors next door and the police man stationed on the corner.
