Thursday, April 27, 2006
The Great Escape
Heigh-ho regular Portia weighs in with this hilarious tale of modern day cat burglary:
I took the dogs for a walk the other afternoon, and stupidly forgot to take my apartment keys. I buzzed the super but no one was home. Sh*t. I called my guy but, of course, he was at work in #$*& New Jersey, and had a 7PM deadline with the printer. I thought about calling a locksmith but that seemed wildly excessive. So I went across the street to the park-- with the beasts in tow--and sat down on a park bench prepared to wait there until dark, or at least until it was a more reasonable hour to stop by my neighborhood pub.
After I read EVERY page of the Daily News, the Village Voice, and the free Gay Weekly (handed to me by one who believes he is both), I glanced up at my building and saw the neighbor, who lives below my apartment, raising his window shade. Most excellent: Someone else is not working in the middle of the day. Hallelujah!
Quick like a bunny, I tied up the dogs, ran across the street, buzzed his buzzer, and pleaded my "case." He let me in! Dumb, Irish luck, or worse: My neighbor is either guileless, or stupid. Who buzzes in a stranger after she asks permission to climb through your window because she "forgot" her keys?
Anyway, he opened his apartment door, greeted me with a smile, led me to the bedroom, and shaking his head, wished me luck. I laughed nervously, turned to the window, and that's when I spotted it: The biggest f&$%ing air conditioner known to man. How could this be? Three floors up from where I just spent an hour-- one floor closer to my apartment and a much needed glass of wine--and a %^&$ Carrier unit stands in my way? Heh. Maybe he wasn't as guileless, as I believed.
Bewildered, but undaunted, I looked to my new "friend" for help--or at least a screwdriver--but by then, he had left left the room. Say what? Who is this guy???
Not knowing whether I should be more afraid of the person waiting for me in the next room, or returning to the park bench until dark, I went into overdrive. I surveyed my options:
Window, AC, fire escape, weirdo, duct tape, tied up, no one evens knows I'm here, window, frame, weirdo, get the hell out of here, now...
Maybe, just maybe, the AC is unit is not bolted to the window frame. Please, please, please. More dumb, Irish luck: It wasn't. Oh, thank you, God. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I swear I will go to church every Easter.
Pushing aside my fears that the AC unit would crash to the sidewalk below, I threw open the window and squeezed myself through the small opening (no more than "two feet" by the average male population's standards) between the top of the AC and the bottom of the raised window.
Finally, on the other side of the biggest f&$%ing air conditioner known to man, I closed the window behind me, quickly climbed up fire escape stairs to my unlocked window, and squeezed myself into another "two foot" opening. Once inside, I grabbed my keys, ran down the stairs, collected the tied up dogs, and took the elevator back up to my humble--yet very penetrable--abode.
Well, done, Portia!
Now about that guy one floor down.....
Posted by spd rdr at 9:39 AM