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.....

8 comments:

camojack said...

Where is this place?

Cassandra said...

Wonderful, Portia :) I was so hoping you were going to write!

spd rdr said...

Portia is the Queen of Prospect Park, Brooklyn, NY, USA.

Anonymous said...

Brooklyn (Owes the Charmer Over Me)
(Steely Dan, way back when)

A race of angels
Bound with one another
A dish of dollars
Laid out for all to see
A tower room at Eden Rock
His golf at noon for free
Brooklyn owes the charmer
Under me

His lady's aching
To bring a body down
She daily preaches
On where she wants to be
An evening with a movie queen
A face we all have seen
Brooklyn owes the charmer
Under me

A case of aces
Done up loose for dealing
A piece of island cooling in the sea
The whole of time we gain or lose
And power enough to choose
Brooklyn owes the charmer
Under me...
/
Hey, hey, hey, which way to Flatbush Avenue?

-"Don Brouhaha"

camojack said...

I work near a different Prospect Park...in Delaware County, PA.

portia said...

Rereading this vignette, I'm reminded that while my body is agile enough to pretzel itself through small openings, my mind can't remember where I put my keys...or whether 6 inches really is a foot:) Heh. I can hear spd now: And the bad news is?

Camo, Brooklyn is the best, and most exciting, place to live in New York...just ask my neighbor:) Or listen to Don "Steely" Brouhaha.

Thanks Cass.

camojack said...

portia:
As you might guess, the only part of NYC where I've spent any time is Manhattan. Philly, my hometown, I know quite well...although I live in "da 'burbs" now.

Pooke said...

Dang, Portia... you've got gutz! Kudos for beating down those Carrier/Gravity thangs! They both suck anyway.