CB 1, Door 0
Jan. 23rd, 2008 11:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cabensonWhen Mrs. CB and I first started living together, we had this great little apartment. It was on the second story and had an enclosed porch that overlooked a beautiful courtyard. The only problem we ever really had was that the old latch to the un-keyed deadbolt on the back door was loose, and more than once, it would slide as we shut the door, effectively locking us out. Luckily, there was a cat door cut out and my Mr. Fantastic arms were long enough to reach up and unlatch the lock. It was always amusing to try to reach up through the cat door while Baby Greyson was trying to get out. Or Blue dropping a straw through and crying for me to play. Ahhh, good times.
I hadn’t thought about those days until I got home yesterday and found myself completely locked out of our home. In the freezing, snowy cold! Someway, somehow, our bedeviled storm door managed to latch itself into the locked position even though it is a lock that must be latched from inside the house! Poltergeists, I tell ya! I tried jiggling the handle, lifting it up and down, and trying to open the storm window but no joy. Then, in super criminal mode, I tried slipping the laminated yet flexible cards on my work ID in between the door and the weatherproofing to lift the latch up, again to no avail. Frustrated, I began pounding on the door in hopes that it would come to its damn senses and let me the hell in! Then I remembered that the security alarm was set and excessive pounding can set it off. And some unknown neighbor peoples were watching. I could picture the cops showing up and me trying to explain that I was actually trying to break into my own house.
After walking around the house and realizing that we had everything locked up tight, I came to the conclusion that the only way I was getting in my house was to take the storm door off. I visited two neighbors before I found a screwdriver, and I set about my task, praying that I would achieve entry before A) the sun set completely and B) Mrs. CB got home. It took me removing all of the overly-painted screws, save one, to lift the storm door off the track enough to unlatch the latch. I have never been so happy for a long piece of pointed metal encased in a plastic handle. I succeeded in my task, entered the house to find four concerned kitties staring at me( the fifth was hiding due to my pounding) and blessed warmth! I returned the screwdriver to our wonderful neighbor, then got my power drill/driver and put the door back on. I felt good, I felt butch, I felt warm! And I had it done and was cleaning the sidewalks when Mrs. CB got home. Ahh, good times.
I hadn’t thought about those days until I got home yesterday and found myself completely locked out of our home. In the freezing, snowy cold! Someway, somehow, our bedeviled storm door managed to latch itself into the locked position even though it is a lock that must be latched from inside the house! Poltergeists, I tell ya! I tried jiggling the handle, lifting it up and down, and trying to open the storm window but no joy. Then, in super criminal mode, I tried slipping the laminated yet flexible cards on my work ID in between the door and the weatherproofing to lift the latch up, again to no avail. Frustrated, I began pounding on the door in hopes that it would come to its damn senses and let me the hell in! Then I remembered that the security alarm was set and excessive pounding can set it off. And some unknown neighbor peoples were watching. I could picture the cops showing up and me trying to explain that I was actually trying to break into my own house.
After walking around the house and realizing that we had everything locked up tight, I came to the conclusion that the only way I was getting in my house was to take the storm door off. I visited two neighbors before I found a screwdriver, and I set about my task, praying that I would achieve entry before A) the sun set completely and B) Mrs. CB got home. It took me removing all of the overly-painted screws, save one, to lift the storm door off the track enough to unlatch the latch. I have never been so happy for a long piece of pointed metal encased in a plastic handle. I succeeded in my task, entered the house to find four concerned kitties staring at me( the fifth was hiding due to my pounding) and blessed warmth! I returned the screwdriver to our wonderful neighbor, then got my power drill/driver and put the door back on. I felt good, I felt butch, I felt warm! And I had it done and was cleaning the sidewalks when Mrs. CB got home. Ahh, good times.
