You know the day is going to be special when you start it by locking yourself out of your apartment at 5:00am. That’s right. You heard me. 5:00am.
They are doing work on the pipes today, and water is going to be shut off intermittently throughout the day. Being the intrepid, enterprising soul that I am, I got up at my normal hour (despite working from home today) and set on a quest to do my mountains of laundry before they shut off the water.
Well… mission accomplished there. Unfortunately, in my haste to be very efficient and useful, I walked out without my keys. A fact I noticed at 5:10am.
I have no idea what to do. I have no cell phone. No money. Until 20 minutes ago, I had no pen or paper (laundry room debris has assisted me with that much). My only two saving graces are:
- I put a bra on before I went downstairs (something I contemplated not doing given the early hour), and
- There is a bathroom downstairs near the pool.
Thank you for small favors.
Isn’t there an office you ask? Yes. There is. It opens at 9:00am. I need to be working by 7:00am. Four hours has never seemed longer in my life.
Isn’t there an emergency number to call? Sure. No idea what that number is. And even if I did, I have no phone. I have no money for a pay phone even if one existed somewhere in the complex.
Can’t you just find another early riser to call? Tried that. My would be knight in shining armor came into the laundry room at 6:10am. I asked him if he knew the number, that I got locked out, etc. I was as winning as I could be given the fact that I haven’t brushed my teeth or showered yet. He mumbled something that sounded like “oh… uh, no”. Then he sort of laughed awkwardly, grabbed his clothes and left. Not exactly the fabled rescuer I had in mind.
My next gallant assist did come from a gentleman who tried to help. He called the office number, but hung up when the message started to play. Only after he left did I think that maybe he should have listened to the message.
So, here I sit. Counting dryer revolutions is not nearly what it is cracked up to be. The pen I found in the laundry is now leaking ink all over my hands (no doubt about to get all over my newly cleaned clothing). I’m running out of left over old “water shut off” notices to use for my memoirs.
I have never looked forward to folding my clothes so much. I better make that activity last because a great expanse of nothingness appears to wait on the other side. When I get back into my apartment, I will seriously consider surgically implanting a spare key.
One of the service managers lives in the complex. I don’t actually know where, but there are only 10 or so buildings here. How hard can that be? I figure just as the office is opening at 9:00, I’ll be half my through knocking on doors.
Did I mention the pen that was leaking is now nearly out of ink?
Oh, yeah, it’s Kate… for the win!
Finally, a lovely young man came into the laundry at 7:00 with a cell phone in hand. We called the main number, waited through the message, and I was talking to the after hours service, one of the service managers walked through to start his day early. Of course, when he teased me about not getting back in until after 9:00, my reaction to the joke was somewhat muted (actually, I thought to myself: “I’m going to cut you. Seriously. I’m going to cut you right now, even though I’ll have to use the edge of my laundry card since that’s all I have on me”). God bless R for letting me in— two and a half hours after I started the day. Awesome.
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