Which would you rather have?

They both cost around the same. 

No really…

They do. 

And in a way, one just kept me from gaining the other. 

You see what ‘ha-happened’ was…

I was sitting in my office working diligently on a project that is due tomorrow/today, the 17th of September. Finally catching stride and making great progress. I paused momentarily to make a phone call then proceeded to check my text messages and correspond with a few that I had missed. The time: roughly 9:30pm. Mid text-conversing I heard a thunderous noise outside that was rattling the outside door to my office, It sounded like a helicopter was hovering closely overhead. So, of course, I peaked my head outside to see what it was that I ‘ha-heard.’ And I saw nothing, so I walked further out on the sidewalk to get a better glimpse at the sky and turned back in time to see the door shut behind me. No big deal right? I didn’t realize that the door was spring loaded, but that’s okay because I never spun a lock on the handle (BECAUSE THERE ISN’T ONE!). I grabbed the door knob to head back inside and nope… sorry you can’t get back in because this house is 100 years old and plays strange tricks in the night. You see, the office door to the outside only has one lock, a queer small deadbolt. The handle itself has neither turn-lock on the inside nor key-hole-a on the outside. And it isn’t the ‘push-in to lock’ like some bathrooms. It’s just a knob from 1892.  

So there I was, hosed. I made the rounds checking the other two doors and checking every window and confirming that yes, they are all double glassed and sealed from the outside. Having nary a flashlight (that means I didn’t have one) I headed down under the house into the dirty creepy basement. I had the thought of pulling one of the air vents out and squeezing myself through the hole in the floor… could you imagine if I would have tried that and got stuck? …and the neighbors heard some freaky yells and screams coming from the basement? That would have been awesome. But not a story I wanted to tell, besides I ran into about 98 spiders and a dead rat the last time I was down there. Wasn’t looking for company just yet. With a deep sigh I left the basement and headed above ground. The thought of being stuck down there instead of outside wasn’t very charming. 

There I was in my shorts, sleeveless t-shirt and house slippers. I decided that all options were exhausted so I started walking. No neighborly lights were on so I decided to walk up to West End Road to one of the stores and see about using their phone to call a locksmith. I made it up past the church just as a policeman was pulling into the side road. An answered prayer (so I thought). I flagged him down and asked him if he had a number for a locksmith. He said, “Where’s your car?” To which I replied, “Parked next to the house that I’m locked out of.” And with that he said that I could walk back home in my cute little slippers and wait for a locksmith, he would phone one. So I made it all the way back home before the same officer drove up (Thanks for the ride, didn’t know you were HEADED MY WAY) and told me that he called Pop-Lock and they would be on their way. Shortly after I heard the church bells chime. It must have been 10 or 10:30pm, I didn’t pay any attention to how many or what type of procession with which the bells tolled.

So I sat on my little concrete bench looking in on my home.

It grew colder and colder.

And I waited and waited. 

I tried to use my time waiting occupying my mind with things that were positive. I tried to use it as a break from work and thinking about all of the negative that has been surrounding me as of late. The bitter cold didn’t help much, but I gave it a try. I starting designing the landscaping in my head… some flowers there… a few here… I then started to get really cold which made me think of how close Christmas was getting. So I began decorating the front yard deciding where I’d hang lights… what trees and bushes would look great lit. How great it would be to have family over for the Holidays. The wonderful smells of the season… baked goods, wood burning in a fireplace… pine trees… the various scented candles. Then the church bell tolled again. This time I lent my earn fully to the counting.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six… Seven… Eight… Nine… Ten… Eleven.

The wind began to pick up quite a bit as I tried to huddle up and sit near the door, but the ground was damp and my back aching.  Just then I heard the same noise that rattled the door to begin all of this nonsense. With it came a lengthy train whistle again and again. The culprit was a train. Darn that choo-choo. There must be tracks much closer than I had thought to be able to shake the ground as such. I was hoping that the fox, with the large whispy tail, that I had seen running through the front yard last night would appear again tonight and keep me occupied. He must have been inside having a warm mug of cocoa…

Lucky fox.

Time passed.

At midnight I saw my neighbor arriving. I approached her in the least ‘creepy-guy’ way possible, she was saying goodbye to her friends that had dropped her off. I introduced myself then informed her that I had a very strange request. My teeth were almost chattering as I asked her if she had an old sweater or a blanket that I could borrow until the locksmith arrived. She said sure and as I waited outside she insisted that I come in.  Then she pulled out a knife and… just kidding, wanted to make sure you were still paying attention, I can be long-winded.  After she realized how long I had been waiting out there she said, “I’ve got news for ya, he isn’t coming.” I feared she was right and let her phone another company. She got out the yellow pages and began thumbing through the locksmith ads and dialed up the one that said “15 Minutes or Less!” She gave them the address and I started to walk outside with the pink blanket she lent me. She said it would be alright if I sat on the couch and watched TV with her until he arrived. After saying, “No that’s alright I don’t want to impose” a couple of times, she insisted again. So with that we watched Family Guy and threw questions back and forth getting to know one another a bit as we passed the time. Wonderful first impression as I looked like hell froze over curled up in her pink blanket, 3 days unshaven, in shorts and a sleeveless shirt and slippers. 

At 1am she finally received a phone call from the luckiest man alive, being one of the guys in a field that can make $200 in two minutes flat, he had arrived in all his smoke-stenched glory. We made the rounds trying to see which door would be easiest to break into. Then he mumbled that he would have to drill out the lock. Sounded tough. He made me sign the bill first and I about passed out looking at the amount. I said, “You’ve got to be kidding?!?” He said nothing. I knew he was grinning under that blank-stare. I began thinking of all the ways I could break in on my own with repairs costing less than one-hundred ninety-four dollars and nine cents. I could have busted through the basement floor, come through the drywall in the sealed off basement stairwell… broken a window with my elbow… finally I surrendered, signed my name on the dotted line and let the grease-ball proceed. So much for being there in 15 minutes or less, ya scam artist. He drilled once on either side of the key-hole and with that…

POP.

The door flew open.

And I lost two-hundred dollars. 

I went inside and got my debit card, brought it out to him and told him he could punch me in the face while he was at it. As he was leaving he actually had the audacity to tell me to “have a good night.” 

THANKS, I WILL!

Jerk. 

I took another deep breath and walked inside. I sat at my desk and looked at the work that I had left 5 hours earlier to investigate a noise. Curiosity killed the cat and Cory lost two-hundred dollars. Things could always be worst. I could have been hit by the train that I heard.

See, things aren’t so bad. 

Then I went over to my satchel, in the corner of my office, in which I had the two spare house keys that I had made just before I was in a car wreck. The irony. I have a system with my car and my house so that this doesn’t happen. I can always get into my car and with that I can always get into my house. But no, not today… I’m in a rental car because my car is in the shop… and in my car is a house key to my old home… which would have been replaced by the new key, that was in my hand, if that woman wouldn’t have turned left in front of me. 

Life.

Could it make any more sense?

I sat and thought of all of the other things I could have done with that money. I could have put it towards my Ireland trip fund. I could have bought the iPhone I’ve been holding out on. I could have put it towards a new tattoo… I could have made a donation… could’ve could’ve… but I can’t so there’s no use crying over it now.

It’s gone.

There, I’m over it.

I took one of the spare keys and came up with the best place ever to conceal it, and boy is it a jim-dandy. Finally, something to feel good about. I then wrote a quick thank you note on a card, sealed the envelope and placed in under the windshield wiper of my neighbors car. Without her I would probably be frozen to the sidewalk stubbornly waiting on Pop-Lock. I trust people to their word too much, even still. 

So to the three people I left stranded mid text-conversing, I apologize. It’s nothing personal, I promise. My phone was 5 feet from me. There was just a deadbolt between us. 

And with that it’s 5am.

I need to attempt sleep for a few hours before working on a different project, also finishing up this one that’s due today… and then heading to a meeting this evening. 

Goodnight, and Good Luck…

Cory.