If this happens again I swear to God I'm kicking down the door."
Around 9:20 this evening I got back to my house after having coffee with a friend. The front door was locked, only it was both the deadbolt (which I have a key for) and the handlock (which I don't). My roommate and her friends have this bad habit of locking the handlock (which locks me out of the house), and I've told them multiple times not to do it. I've posted signs on the door in big red letters that say "DON'T LOCK THE HANDLOCK. WE DON'T HAVE A KEY FOR IT." But my roommate took those signs down, saying they were too ugly. She replaced them with a tiny one that nobody bothers to read. And I still keep getting locked out of the house. In fact, this is the 5th time it's happened to me.
So I spend about 10 minutes trying to jimmy open the door with a credit card. It doesn't work. I'm really annoyed. It's the kind of annoyance I only get when someone has blatantly disregarded the fact that they live with another human being.
Last time this happened I said, "If this happens again I swear to God I'm kicking down the door."
I pull out my phone and call my neighbor Chris. "Hey Chris," I say. "You're about to hear a loud noise. But don't worry, we're just working on the door over here. Nobody is breaking in."
WHAM!
Inside I hear little splinters of wood hit the floor.
WHAM!
The door flies open. There's plaster and splinters of wood all over the floor. The metal security brad is against the back wall of the living room, a good 12 feet from the door.
I spent an hour fixing the door, but I don't care. It was so worth it. I don't mean to sound insane, but there's something very primal and satisfying about solving a problem with sheer force.
And now there's duct tape across the handlock and a big red sign on the door that says "DO NOT LOCK THE HAND LOCK. WE DON'T HAVE A KEY FOR IT."
And anyone who tries to take that sign down is going to have problems.
So I spend about 10 minutes trying to jimmy open the door with a credit card. It doesn't work. I'm really annoyed. It's the kind of annoyance I only get when someone has blatantly disregarded the fact that they live with another human being.
Last time this happened I said, "If this happens again I swear to God I'm kicking down the door."
I pull out my phone and call my neighbor Chris. "Hey Chris," I say. "You're about to hear a loud noise. But don't worry, we're just working on the door over here. Nobody is breaking in."
WHAM!
Inside I hear little splinters of wood hit the floor.
WHAM!
The door flies open. There's plaster and splinters of wood all over the floor. The metal security brad is against the back wall of the living room, a good 12 feet from the door.
I spent an hour fixing the door, but I don't care. It was so worth it. I don't mean to sound insane, but there's something very primal and satisfying about solving a problem with sheer force.
And now there's duct tape across the handlock and a big red sign on the door that says "DO NOT LOCK THE HAND LOCK. WE DON'T HAVE A KEY FOR IT."
And anyone who tries to take that sign down is going to have problems.