The one where I'm standing on the porch like an orphan
So, one of the great things about where I live now is how much there is to do. I had a couple of random days off last week, so I decided to be adventurous and explore a little while the weather was nice. Of course, I needed to put a million things in my car for this little adventure--iPod, cooler, sofa and five-piece dining set--which required a couple trips to the car. I walked out with the first batch of stuff and ran into my neighbor on the way out. "Hi!" I said, holding the door for him, all full of light and enthusiasm because, hey! It's sunny out! It's a weekday! Everyone else is at work and I'm going on a little adventure! Hello, he said, in his darling Turkish accent, then disappeared inside.
I dumped everything in the front seat of my car. I walked back over to the door and ... ohhhhhhhh, crap. Crap crap crappity CRAP, I'd managed to lock myself out. OF COURSE I had.
OK. This is the deal. I live in a locked building. I have two house keys--one for the outside door, one to my actual apartment--and zero spares. I had left my apartment door hanging wide open, but there was no way to get inside the outside door.
But! My neighbor had just breezed through the door! His apartment is on the ground floor next to the outside door, so no problem, I'll tap on the door, flash him a charming smile and he'll let me in, right?
Tap. Tap, tap, TAP, TAP, TAP, BANG. Nothing.
OK, wait. Wait a second. I had to get into the car somehow, right? Silly Swishy, the keys were probably just sitting on the seat. I walk back over to the car and look everywhere. I mean, EVERYWHERE. And then I remember that, oh, yeah, I'd gone to Target and left the car unlocked while I went inside to get my stuff. Ohhhhhh, yeahhhhhh.
(We resume this episode of "Swishy is an Idiot," now in progress.)
I go around to the front this time and buzz my neighbor. Silence. I buzz again. Silence. At this point, I'm like, you've got to be kidding me. Dude. DUDE! I JUST held the door for you! I've lived above you for nine months! I'VE HEARD YOU HAVE SEX. WE HAVE A RELATIONSHIP. OPEN THE DOOR.
He does not open the door.
I try another neighbor. Nada. I know my next-door neighbor is gone, because I am very observant/a nosy neighbor/a stalker, so I move on to the next one. Unfortunately, there are only four other people who live in my part of the building. Unfortunately, I also appear to be the only lady of leisure, because no one else is home at noon on a weekday.
At this point, I'm like, OK. Option A: Sit on the steps and wait for one of my neighbors to come home. Option B: Channel MacGyver and try picking the lock using a combination of the following things in my glove compartment: tampon, nail file, hand sanitizer, ballpoint pen and Extra gum (watermelon flavor). Option C: Track down my landlord. Naturally, I do not have his number programmed into my cell phone, because did I mention that this episode is called "Swishy is an Idiot"? Fortunately, however, I am either not TOTALLY an idiot or very lucky, because I DO have a spare car key in my bag. So I drive to his office and cross my fingers and all my toes that this isn't the week he decided to go on a lavish vacation or flee the country.
It isn't. He drives over right away and lets me in, and there are my keys, smack dab on the middle of the couch. Moral of the story: I am TOTALLY making copies of my keys.
(P.S. I DID have a fun adventure. I listened to music and went shopping and walked on the beach. And I didn't even lock myself out of the car, not even once.)