So I locked myself out of my parents' house naked today....
That's right. I did. And I feel compelled to share the story of my afternoon with you all, LJ friends, as if there was a story made for LJ, this is it. I do believe I've topped the violent popcorn fire incident here in both terms of embarassment and sheer shitty luck. Anyway...
Let me start off by saying that story has not been embellished - for it needs no embellishment. This is simply the horrifying story that is my life.
For those who don't know (ie those who are not friends with foxywriter), I'm housesitting at my parents' this week while they are at my sister's place in Nebraska. I had originally planned on having a relaxing day: I was going to lay by the pool for a bit, go get a "live scan" for my CA Bar membership (which I can only hope does not involve any cavity searches or else my day just got even worse...), stop by the bank, etc. As it turns out... not so relaxing.
It began when I decided the dress that I was going to wear today needed some de-wrinkling after being folded in my bag for a few days. So, immediately after I got out of the shower, still soaking wet and clad in only a towel, I took the dress out to dryer in my parents' garage for some refreshing.
Now let me clarify a few things: First, my parents' guest towels are small. And I am not short. So in order to cover my top half adequately, the bottom of the towel just barely covers my crotchal region. Barely. If I don't move my legs at all. Second, I did not have my contacts in - and without my contacts I am utterly blind. I'm serious, I'm considered legally blind in the state of CA without them.
Okay back to the story. So I toss my dress in the dryer and turn to go back inside. But the door connecting the garage to the inside of the house won't open. It somehow LOCKED behind me. So there I am, sopping wet, more than half naked, and blind as a bat. And there is no other way back into the house, where sits my cell phone and keys, etc.
The garage door leads to the backyard. So I went back there in hopes that I somehow left the either of the patio doors open. Nope. Both locked. WIndows all shut tight (the A/C was on). Back in the garage, I looked for the phone my parents used to have, to call my dad and ask if he had any hidden keys around etc. They apparently removed this phone, as it was no longer there. I then checked my dad's truck for his keys, since he's prone to leaving them inside, and tried every single key on his key ring, none of which opened the door.
I went over to my dad's workbench and looked for any other sets of keys to try. So I'm Mr. Magoo-ing my way around the work bench, can't see a damn thing, trying to collect all the keys I can find. Certainly I was NOT eager to run to my neighbor's (who, BTW, do not have copies of my parents' house keys, nor does anyone else to my knowledge), and having the fire dept. come out or something. My dad has, like, 70 keys at his workbench. I have no idea what the hell all of them were for, but nonetheless, there were tons of them. I tried them all on the door to the house, to no avail. Then I got brave (or completely desperate) and opened the garage door to try each of the keys on the front door to the house - in my tiny towel at the front of the house, underwearless, blind, and wet. I had to crouch, and strategically place my hands, lest my naked ass be visible under the towel to passers by. Need I mention that none of the keys worked on the front door either? Cuz the they didn't. That would be too easy.
By this point I was really starting to panic. Homer was barking/whining at me from inside the house. And as I said before, I did not have my cell phone with me to remind me to keep the eye of the tiger (yes, my cell phone plays Eye of the Tiger, shut up).
BUT, after some sobbing and wracking my brain for ideas, I then noticed that my parents had put in a NEW phone (in a completely different place than before - which I couldn't see before because, like I said, I'm freaking Mr. Magoo without contacts).
Called my dad in Nebraska, whose first response to my describing what happened was, "...... shit. Shit." He kept repeating that, which was really not encouraging, I have to say. We went round and round for a while - he told me to try the keys in his truck, and I told him I already tried those and the ones on his work bench. He had me fumble around his 20,000 keys again looking for a specific one he described, which is just awesome when you can't see a damn thing. Tried all of those, didn't work. Finally he had me go through his giant tool box. Tried several keys in there that didn't work either. FINALLY found one in the box that did open the door to the house. THANK. GOD.
I would like to say there is a moral to this story; some worldly advice you all can take away from it. But there really isn't. Just my embarassment for your own entertainment. Go ahead, laugh.
Just remember - karma's a bitch, and it could just as easily happen to you too. :p :p
In happier news, I am getting my hair highlighted and cut on Saturday. So that's... that's kinda neat. Yeah.
Let me start off by saying that story has not been embellished - for it needs no embellishment. This is simply the horrifying story that is my life.
For those who don't know (ie those who are not friends with foxywriter), I'm housesitting at my parents' this week while they are at my sister's place in Nebraska. I had originally planned on having a relaxing day: I was going to lay by the pool for a bit, go get a "live scan" for my CA Bar membership (which I can only hope does not involve any cavity searches or else my day just got even worse...), stop by the bank, etc. As it turns out... not so relaxing.
It began when I decided the dress that I was going to wear today needed some de-wrinkling after being folded in my bag for a few days. So, immediately after I got out of the shower, still soaking wet and clad in only a towel, I took the dress out to dryer in my parents' garage for some refreshing.
Now let me clarify a few things: First, my parents' guest towels are small. And I am not short. So in order to cover my top half adequately, the bottom of the towel just barely covers my crotchal region. Barely. If I don't move my legs at all. Second, I did not have my contacts in - and without my contacts I am utterly blind. I'm serious, I'm considered legally blind in the state of CA without them.
Okay back to the story. So I toss my dress in the dryer and turn to go back inside. But the door connecting the garage to the inside of the house won't open. It somehow LOCKED behind me. So there I am, sopping wet, more than half naked, and blind as a bat. And there is no other way back into the house, where sits my cell phone and keys, etc.
The garage door leads to the backyard. So I went back there in hopes that I somehow left the either of the patio doors open. Nope. Both locked. WIndows all shut tight (the A/C was on). Back in the garage, I looked for the phone my parents used to have, to call my dad and ask if he had any hidden keys around etc. They apparently removed this phone, as it was no longer there. I then checked my dad's truck for his keys, since he's prone to leaving them inside, and tried every single key on his key ring, none of which opened the door.
I went over to my dad's workbench and looked for any other sets of keys to try. So I'm Mr. Magoo-ing my way around the work bench, can't see a damn thing, trying to collect all the keys I can find. Certainly I was NOT eager to run to my neighbor's (who, BTW, do not have copies of my parents' house keys, nor does anyone else to my knowledge), and having the fire dept. come out or something. My dad has, like, 70 keys at his workbench. I have no idea what the hell all of them were for, but nonetheless, there were tons of them. I tried them all on the door to the house, to no avail. Then I got brave (or completely desperate) and opened the garage door to try each of the keys on the front door to the house - in my tiny towel at the front of the house, underwearless, blind, and wet. I had to crouch, and strategically place my hands, lest my naked ass be visible under the towel to passers by. Need I mention that none of the keys worked on the front door either? Cuz the they didn't. That would be too easy.
By this point I was really starting to panic. Homer was barking/whining at me from inside the house. And as I said before, I did not have my cell phone with me to remind me to keep the eye of the tiger (yes, my cell phone plays Eye of the Tiger, shut up).
BUT, after some sobbing and wracking my brain for ideas, I then noticed that my parents had put in a NEW phone (in a completely different place than before - which I couldn't see before because, like I said, I'm freaking Mr. Magoo without contacts).
Called my dad in Nebraska, whose first response to my describing what happened was, "...... shit. Shit." He kept repeating that, which was really not encouraging, I have to say. We went round and round for a while - he told me to try the keys in his truck, and I told him I already tried those and the ones on his work bench. He had me fumble around his 20,000 keys again looking for a specific one he described, which is just awesome when you can't see a damn thing. Tried all of those, didn't work. Finally he had me go through his giant tool box. Tried several keys in there that didn't work either. FINALLY found one in the box that did open the door to the house. THANK. GOD.
I would like to say there is a moral to this story; some worldly advice you all can take away from it. But there really isn't. Just my embarassment for your own entertainment. Go ahead, laugh.
Just remember - karma's a bitch, and it could just as easily happen to you too. :p :p
In happier news, I am getting my hair highlighted and cut on Saturday. So that's... that's kinda neat. Yeah.