Just When You Think...

I had one hell of an interesting Wednesday. It started off just like any other day. I wake up, get dressed, check my e-mail. I also had to do laundry. I needed quarters so I walk to the bank and get a roll. I get my basket and head to the machines. Just as I close the locked door behind me I notice that I don't feel my keys in my pocket. Yup, for some odd reason after I get home from the bank I took out my keys AND wallet yet kept my Ipod in my pocket. So now I'm trapped outside with my laundry, my Ipod, and $1.25 in quarters. I check to see if all my windows are locked. They are. I see if the manager is in. Nope. I see if I can pry open my bedroom window with the bar I ripped off the fire extinguisher case. The bar just kinda bends.

So now I'm pondering my options when a car pulls in and drops off someone near the managers office. Maybe I'm lucky (-er then when I started). I walk over and notice that he has walked into the managers apartment. SWEET! I quickly go up and knock on the door. No answer. oooookeeey? Knock again. Nada. What kind of pothead manager do I have? One more time and I hear some rumbling. He answers the door and I inform him of my conundrum. He then tells me that he is not the manager. OKAY, what the HELL! I go on my way and he starts playing is drums or something.

It's 3:30 now and I've been locked out for about a half-hour. I've been sitting on the steps to my apartment protecting my dirty closes and playing solitaire on my Ipod. The sign outside the "managers" apartment says that the office hours are from 6-8. I can't sit and wait that long. I start to formulate options. Most of my options involve me having a wallet or my car keys, or at least the key to the laundry room. I decide to go to the pay phone at the Plaid Pantry and dial the number given at the "managers" apartment that was listed for emergencies. 50 cents. I get a message telling me that there are no apartments available at this time, but if this a resident that I should call this other number for emergencies. In my half-rage over the truth about anything written outside of Apt.11 and loss of 50 cents I try to remember the number they told me. Another 50 cents. This time no greeting, just a place to leave a message. What and emergency line. I walk back and try to see if I can get my upstairs neighbor to help me out. Though there is much commotion, there is no answer. I begin to question my ability to knock loudly. It's then that I remeber that I have the number of my phone card in my Ipod. I decide to call my friend Riann to hang out with me until 6. I call the number and enter my memorized account code. The automated hell-demon tells me I don't have enough minutes left to make a call from a pay phone. I try knocking on my neighbors door again. He answers from behind the door. God, I hope he was taking a shower. I tell him my situation. He says he'll help and gets dressed. Of course his version of helping involves looking at my windows and not believeing me when I tell him they are locked. "Are you sure down is the locked position? Huh, funny." Something tells me he wasn't prepared to think today. "Hey at least you've got clean cloths." I then explain the logic in which my cloths are still dirty. I ask if I can borrow his phone to call my friend. As I dial the number he inspects his own window to ultra confirm that down IS the locked position.

"Hello?" Finally, progress. Riann is slightly confused because she didn't recognize the number and informs me that she almost didn't answer. I ask what she is doing and if she wants to hang out until about 6. She tells me she has a date at 5:30, but is more than willing to move the time to 6:30 to help me out. She asks if I want to drive to her place. I then explain the logic in which I can't get into my car. She says she'll pick me up.

I spend about 10 minutes talking with my neighbor outside about our college math courses until Riann pulls in to pick me up. I throw my laundry in the back and we're off. Almost. After 6 feet of driving her engine is over-heating. She backs up into the parking lot. She pops the cap on the radiator. Looks fine. We check the oil. Bone dry. We walk to the Plaid Pantry and get oil and chocolate milk. MMmmmmm! Her oil cap doesn't want to come off. The damn thing is stripped. She trys to pry it off with a knife but I find it helpful to use the knife to twist it off. We fill up and NOW we're off.

So we're headed back to her place when all the sudden her hood is smoking. Son of a! She makes an illegal turn off the road and pulls over. She pops the hood and the problem is obvious. She didn't put the radiator cap back on. Fluid is everywhere, but at least we still have the cap. She does have some fluid in he trunk. She starts to pour and then we lose the cap in the car. She gets the knife out again and she is able to poke it down to the ground. We still didn't fill the radiator so the engine is still hot. After some waiting and encouragement from me, we head off to get more fluid. We make it easy and with no illegal moves. We fill up and the car is fine. So far this is the most interesting laundry day ever.

We finally get to her place and it's around 5:30. She calls the date and informs him of the situation and that maybe they should meet up at 7:30. At this point she isn't really up for a date and tells me I need to call her in the middle of it so she can cop out. I've never done that and it seems so cool. So she gets ready and I watch a movie. At 6:30 we are heading back to my place. I knock on the "managers" door. I get an answer from some lady. I tell her my situation and she grabs her keys and some list. She also comments that, "Hey, at least you have clean cloths." WHAT IS WITH THESE PEOPLE! How do you not understand the concept of a KEY RING! She checks her list to see which key goes to my apartment, 33 is key 53. Nope. I can't help but laugh. She is confused and tries 33 and 35. No and no. She then goes back to her apartment and grabs her bowl o' keys. None of them work. She then starts going through all the keys on her giant ring. One of them actually works. I grab my cloths out of the back of Riann's car and wish her well. Things are now back to normal and I can get started on my junk.

But wait... There's more. After being on the phone with my mom, telling her about my day, I get a knock on the door. It's Riann. I tell my mom I've got to go. I let her in and ask her whats up. Her car started acting weird again so she decided to just scrap the date and come back and hang with me. But that's still not the end. As she was about to call her date back she gets a call from her date. Apparently, he also had some car troubles and is having his brother pick him up. It is at this point I'm rolling on the floor laughing. What a freakin' day. Were hungry and we tempt fate by taking my car to Safeway to get food. We live.