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Locked out

May 7, 2009
by

Not happy – well not this morning anyway!

Last week when my kitchen decided to flood itself ? The other thing that went wrong was that the lock on our front door decided to commit suicide as well.

Don’t they say things come along in threes?

Maybe Rowan doing a poo in her bed was the 3rd…. I hope anyway – Hi 30 yr old Rowan *waves* Love you 😛

Any way

I went away for the weekend with Rowan to go and fall asleep to Granny’s boring talk (a lie – I didn’t listen) (another lie – It wasn’t boring – I kid)

Anyway – (I say that a lot – no?)

Anyway

ha?

*cough* Anyway

BN fitted a new lock on Thursday afternoon – cos he’s handy like that – and it looks like this

Locked out

Sexy new lock.

So… ( a refreshing change from anyway)

So.

Weekend passes – all is good – we go away – we come back – we go about our business happily not getting locked out until today.

I was off to Boston again today and my boss was picking me up from my house *early* – but late enough that I could take the Swirlies to nursery and then come back, wash up, hoover etc. and get picked up and be on my way…. or?

Get home and find that I had no key upgrade to the new lock el Nutty Doorio.

I unlocked the bottom lock.

I unlocked the top lock.

I turned the handle… nothing… I realised I needed to unlock the Yale. I lifted the third key to the door …?

I swear if someone had a camera at that point my face would have looked like this… Yes. Yellow and Homer like.

I didn’t even try to place the key in the lock..

Locked out.

Worse?

Bag, phones, stuff?

Inside.

So… (again – a refreshing change? …. or is now just normal?)

Anyway

I looked up and down the street and thought… hmmmmm…..

I don’t talk to my neighbours.

There is not one person here that I can knock on their door and ask to use their phone.

Not one.

I don’t know any of them.

A-n-y of them.

Am I really really sad? Or really sensible..? You may decide.

Quick thinking.

Pub? 8am. = sleeping.

Butchers? YES! Butchers!

I went to the Butcher’s at the top of the street – two doors away. I nod or smile at one or the other of them every other day. We go in there and shop…. reasonably often. It’s a family run butchers and I have lived here, two doors away –  since 2002.

Two doors away.

Hi *smiles* I live next door and my husband changed the locks and didn’t give me a key…

**he looks at me with a look on his face like he wants to back away**

You live next door?

Me: I realise how that sounds. Let me re-phrase. Our lock broke at the weekend – we live next door – My husband has *forgotten* to give me a key to the new lock and I don’t normally come back to the house until after he’s home …. I don’t want you to break into my house…

***At this point I started to wonder that he may think I was some random stranger that was about to ask him to smash someone’s window! 🙂

…. I just want to borrow your phone 🙂

To call my husband… to let me in.

** He looks relieved **

You live next door?

Yes I replied. Next door. For seven years.

You’ve lived next door for seven years??

I swear he as repeating it like I had just told him I brush my teeth with bleach. Or I eat lamb’s eyeballs for breakfast.

You eat lamb’s eyeballs? For breakfast? Daily?

Daily? Lamb’s eyeballs?

Yes 🙂 *smiles sweetly* we live next door – for seven years *smiles more sweetly* I’m just very busy *sickly sweet smile with slight begging look*

He waves me in to the office… I can picture him walking away from me – back turned – looking at all the other blokes, pointing with over exaggerated mouthing ‘seven years? You recognise her?’ with added cuckoo sounds imagined… and swirly finger to the temple…

Anyway.

I called BN and he didn’t answer his mobile (silent scream when I realise the world hates me) luckily I have a brain like directory enquiries and I recalled the number of his new boss at new job. Mr New boss answered the phone.

Replay all of above series of explanation. You think I would have learned not to open with my husband changed the locks and didn’t give me the key… but no.

He sounded confused… but fetched BN. I imagined him walking away to find BN thinking – he changed the locks on his house and didn’t give his wife a key? Silent Cuckoo mouthing and swirly fingers…

We formulated a plan. I would call a cab – collect the key and cab would bring my key to me at the house.

I called a cab.

Me: I need a cab to go and collect a key from there and bring it to me, here. My husband changed the locks and didn’t give me a key.

He laughs … do you think he’s trying to tell you something?

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9 Comments leave one →
  1. May 7, 2009 9:56 pm

    Must not laugh, must not laugh, must NOT laugh …. so sorry im laughing I can stop myself

  2. Mancais permalink
    May 7, 2009 11:07 pm

    I laughed. A lot.
    Sorry.

  3. May 7, 2009 11:53 pm

    I just wouldn’t have mentioned it, but the story wouldn’t have been so funny that way :o)

    snigger

    xc

  4. May 8, 2009 2:58 pm

    Someone is definitely trying to tell you something.
    (Excuse me while I go change- I think I just peed my pants laughing!)

  5. May 8, 2009 4:08 pm

    I can’t help but wonder if it was worth using a meat juice covered butchers phone to get into your house. *shudder*

    Aside from that.. so funny when it’s someone else suffering that problem. I’ve actually solved that regularly occuring issue here now by hiding a key outside in the garden!

  6. May 8, 2009 4:09 pm

    Meat juice = blood doesn’t it. Ha, wonder why I didn’t just think blood then!

  7. May 8, 2009 5:49 pm

    Meat juice… Blood is not the first thing that comes to my mind 🙂

  8. May 11, 2009 5:42 pm

    Actually, give up what you do and become a journalist for a womens magazine. You write beautifully.

  9. May 11, 2009 5:55 pm

    Ah now I would love to do that but not sure I’d get far … 🙂

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