Wow, so I’ve been fabulously grumpy b/c of all the work stress I just underwent, screaming bosses, lack of matzo, bok choy subway man after cabs refused me, etc., etc. Tonight, I’m hosting my friend Alex who was the last one to leave the apartment and kept harping “I don’t know I’m nervous how the door locked. The door knob wasn’t moving when I locked it. Is that normal?” I had no idea, but I wasn’t worried about it, figuring she was just being paranoid. We were having dinner with separate people (me with co-workers, which felt so awkward, and just reinforced how much I just wanted to get home and go to bed.) When we got to the apartment tonight at midnight, indeed, the door knob didn’t budge and we couldn’t get in. What the hell do you do? My super was asleep and my neighbors are cranky so I was just like in an unbelievably bad mood. We called the locksmith.
While we waited for the locksmith to arrive thirty minutes later, one neighbor down the hall came out to just glare at us and inspired me to feel “I hate people.” I was just sitting outside my apartment feeling utterly miserable about life. On the other side of the door, there was sleep and TV, my PJs. Solomon the locksmith finally came and said the problem was the doorknob was locked on the side of the door (I cannot for the life of me explain the mechanics through writing this) and that he needed to drill a hole through the lower lock to unhook it (we were only offered keys for the top lock, not the bottom lock). He said it would cost us $55 for the drilling and $150 for labor. UGH. So I’m out two hundred bucks (which Alex is covering now, b/c she’s convinced she did it so I can’t complain) plus we’re going to have loud drilling that would disturb our old, cranky neighbors. Great, just great.
After five minutes of loud drilling, we’re in! I feel halleleujah bells go off in the head, and feel RELIEF. At that point, we heard our neighbor buzzing someone in the front door and commented on how wild it was that they were expecting guests at 1 a.m. My husband arrived and surveyed the scene, joked to make us feel better. He said “honey, I know you’re in a bad mood, but look on the bright side, your hair looks really great right now.” And when I was in the bathroom looking to see if he was right, four white cops rushed in.
Turns out my neighbor called 911. And THAT is when I truly began to feel great again. It was the point where the bad day turned into a musical. Apparently, my neighbor panicked when she heard the drilling and thought house robbers were getting ballsy with the drills and her boyfriend was about to come out in the hallway with a butcher knife and his hammer. She said a few years someone really did try to break in and when she looked through her peephole, all she saw was one big eye. (Majorly creepy).
The cops were cool about the false alarm but said it took too long to get into the building and left with a “in a real emergency, you’d be dead.” Ahhh. We hugged and thanked our neighbors and promised to get brunch next week. Whew. Can’t wait to sleep.