Thursday, July 12, 2007

Locked Out

As you may have heard, it's pretty hot here in Vegas these days.

Last week it was routinely around 115.

And it's over 100 degrees outside every night. Even at 2 in the morning.

With that in mind, lets cut back to this past Saturday afternoon.

I had won my way into the Main Event late Friday night. I woke up late and was sipping iced coffee when I decided to check on something with the pool. A red service light was flashing and I wanted to see if I could fix it.

So I exited out one of the 4 doors that make up the back of our house. These 4 doors are glass and when put together give a wide view of the backyard.

I guess I could take a picture for you.

Anyhow the lock on one of these doors is such that the door handle remains loose from the inside even when the door is locked on the outside. There's nothing to adjust. It just locks automatically when you close it.

It's enough of a problem that earlier in the week my wife and I discussed our lock out options. Should we leave a key somewhere outside? Why doesn't my sister who lives in town have one? Etc.

From how I remember it, I stepped outside to the pool on Saturday around 1 pm.

My wife then followed. She came to look at what I was doing. But apparently we both went through the same door. The one that locks automatically.

What's really frustrating here is that 3 of the other 4 doors don't lock automatically. But the door we both went through did.

We were locked out.

It was 115 degrees and we're standing out there in the sun in our pajamas.

For me that meant no shirt. No shoes. Nothing but a pair of basketball shorts I've owned since the Fab 5 was at Michigan.

For my wife it was pajama pants. She was also barefoot and had on a tank top.

"Some" might call it slinky.

We have no keys.

No phone.

No I.D.

No money.

Nothing.

We don't even have drinking water.

Did I mention that it's 115 degrees out?

I've also been awake for like 10 minutes. Not sure if it's the 115 degree heat or the pressure of the situation but I think I'm starting to sweat.

So we decided to do what any married couple would do in this situation.

My wife went to get help.

And I stayed and tried to break into our house.

She went out to get a locksmith. Barefoot, she crossed the insanely hot asphalt on our street and ran to knock on a neighbor's door.

Meanwhile I was removing screens from windows, checking to see if any had been left unlocked.

A few minutes later she came back with a large man.

He had some tools and apparently he said he was going to break into our house for us.

I had mixed feelings here.

On one hand I wanna get back in. And quickly.

Yet as I'm standing there watching him try to knock our sliding glass door off it's track, part of me is rooting against him. Do I really want to see a guy be able to break into my house so easily?

Much to my surprise he wasn't able to do it. He tried a few methods. Removed a few exterior panels, screws, etc. But it didn't work.

We finally borrowed his cell phone and called a locksmith.

30 minutes later an Israeli club kid wearing a "God is a DJ" t-shirt showed up with some "break in" tools.

First we debated the price. Kind of a funny negotiation. Like how far can I really go here to get the best price? It's not like I can walk out on him.

The number finally looked bearable and he began to try to pick our door lock(s).

He couldn't.

Then he tried to "pump" his way in using a device that slips into the door crack and then fills up with air to create space.

This didn't work either.

He finally went to a 3rd method. Because I don't want everyone to break into my home I'm not going to share how he did it. But a few minutes later we were back inside.

He made me show him ID. To prove I lived here.

I wonder what happens at that point if I can't produce ID. I guess he calls the police?

We still haven't put a spare key outside. Or given one to my sister.

So this story is going to get even better the next time we get locked out.

1 comment:

eric said...

I enjoyed that slice of home life. Now we can appreciate more of what Rob's life is really like. Thanks.