Adventures in impromptu locksmithing, or Why we always have our pocket knife, even if we forgot our keys
Once a week, we go to dinner with our buddy James at the local Thai restaurant. We get tofu pad thai. It is happy-making. We take turns with James about who pays for the meal.
This week, we were all ready to walk out the door, turn the lock, *click*.
*does three-point pocket check: phone-pocketknife-keys*
*phone*
*pocketknife*
*k- ?*
O_O; FUCK.
James and we commence hunting around the apartment for a window that might be jimmied open.
Suffice to say, we are now quite content to trust the window locks. They'll hold, provided nobody breaks the actual window itself. :-/
We are in luck, however: Rabbit had his key, and his workplace was only a four-minute drive away. We text Rabbit, he lets us in the apartment so we can retrieve keys. We go eat pad thai with James.
The night after that, we went with Rabbit to have some nice tofu bul-go-gi and the best miso soup we've ever tasted, at the local Japanese-Korean restaurant. We walked there, because the evening was fairly pleasant in the it-wasn't-raining sense. It was still a mite chilly. As we left, we thought to ourselves, hmmmn, need keys? Nawww. Rabbit has his.
We walked back home, by now quite cold.
Rabbit takes out his keys, starts unlocking apartment door.
Rabbit frowns.
Rabbit struggles to get key free from door: it is jammed.
Rabbit shows us the key. It has a very pronounced curve which it should not have.
Rabbit places key on flat surface, takes out pocket knife, and uses the tang as a hammer to moosh the key back into shape.
Rabbit unlocks the door. This all took about ten minutes.
We're gonna' file this one under "things to never ever do again" and "occasions which prove it is generally wiser to listen to the nagging mental voice saying, 'GET YOUR DAMN KEYS BEFORE YOU LEAVE.'"