This morning I woke up, did a little yoga, went for a jog, took a shower, ate an apple, waited for the plumber to come. (Short story: my toilet makes cranky noises and churns hot water so when you rest your ass on it you're never quite sure if it's going to explode though in the winter time it is awfully cozy. It only got worse this summer when I was gone so when I returned I got my landlord on it and it has been plumber hell ever since. That wasn't that short a story, I know.) He came, said he'd be in the apartment till 1. I'd still be at work when he was done, so I showed him how to lock the door behind him without a key by using the bottom lock.

I went to work, I worked, I had lunch, I worked some more, I biked to Holly's Happy Hour, I drank some wine, ate some cheese and crackers, I biked home.

When I got home I discovered that for whatever reason, my key no longer works in the bottom lock. I freaked out. Being locked out of my apartment was so not good for myriad reasons.

I called Mac, because he is the kind of person who knows what to do in situations like this, even though I already knew I was going to have to drop $100 with a locksmith. Mac said, "Did you try the credit card trick?"

"Yea, right," I said. Like I could open my door with a credit card. "I better not be able to open my door with a credit card," I said. "That would really concern me if that was possible."

And yet: While I was talking to him, I pulled out a credit card and started fucking around with the door. My neighbor's door opened as I was doing this. He's new. I don't know him. He has a yappy dog, that much I know.

"I'm looking for my kitty," he said, then closed the door.

All of a sudden I heard a click, and - bam - I've broken into my apartment. Yes, the credit card trick works. Have I mentioned that Mac is a genius yet this week?

He is a genius.

I walked into my apartment, turned on the light, and a wee kitten looked up at me from the food dish. Cracker was staring at him from the corner of the room. He looked pissed.

I knocked on my neighbor's door.

"Dude," I said. "Your cat's in here."

How was the cat in my apartment? Seriously. How did the goddamn cat get in my apartment?

He and the stupid yappy dog came running into my apartment and my cat freaked out. My neighbor was maybe a little drunk or high or something because he picked up his cat, made me hold him, then made the little dog and the cat kiss and said, "Look they love each other!"

Cracker was in the corner, back up, totally fucking hissing.

My neighbor walked back into his apartment, and then, before he closed the door, dropped the dog on his back.

I shook my head, closed the door. I walked in the bathroom and noticed that I no longer had a sink in there. My bathroom sink is now gone. But the toilet, it works like a dream.

archives | w-w home | mail