My life was flashing before my eyes. My very first thought was that I had to document everything I still had. I had food and dishes, a toothbrush and some toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner, the clothes I was currently wearing, and a PS2 with Kingdom Hearts 2 (which is ironic, because the game revolves around keys, which happened to be something I was missing at the time.). I had no other worldly possessions in the entire state that weren't locked in that room. At that instant, my survival techniques kicked in. I needed to eat. I wasn't hungry. In fact, I felt sick to the stomach with myself. But who knows how long I might end up being without my computer? I needed all of the energy I could get. And there really is nothing like snickerdoodles to unleash the inner feral mountain man. The fact that I hadn't shaved in the last 3 days also helped me channel that. But then again, even if I had wanted to shave this morning, my razor was in my room, and I didn't think shaving with a butter knife would've ended well for anyone.
After my inner survivalist was fed, he realized that he left the room in the first place to go to the bathroom. Which brought back a flashback of one time when my roommate opened the bathroom door on my other roommate. How did he do it? With a metal coat hanger. All of my coat hangers were in the room. I looked at the lock on the door and though back to the bobby pin that I picked up off of the floor the night before. Where was it again? In my wallet, in the pocket of my jeans right next to jeans. Inside my room. Windows? On the third floor, and not openable. AC ducts? On a scale of 1 to 10, that's about the same as shaving with a butter knife.
At length, I had to admit defeat. It was time to call in some reinforcements. I had to go next door to the apartment of the Resident Assistant (RA). His name was (still is, actually) Austin. This was his first week in the building, but I was already on good terms with him. A couple of days prior, he failed everyone except me on a cleaning check of our apartment. I had one foot out of my door when I thought back to the last door I closed. I didn't have a key to this one either. This is a much better time to think, "I don't have my keys." I ran back inside and propped the door open with the trash can and went to my RA's door.
*Knock knock knock* No answer. And again, slightly louder. Nothing. My next instinct was to give him a call. With the phone that was in my room. And with the phone number on the piece of paper that was thrown away the night before. I dejectedly walked back to my apartment, powerless to work or play without my laptop, from which I had been separated for all of half an hour. If I left my apartment for any significant amount of time, there was a very good chance that I would not be able to get back in. And without my shoes, I couldn't go very far, anyway. There was nothing for it, but to eat some more, and play some video games. My alternative options included meditating, walking around in circles, and doing dishes. Somehow, video games won out. That ensued for about an hour, during which time I tried to ignore the seemingly high possibility that the couch that I was sitting on might be my bed for the night.
After the space of a time, I proceeded to the door of my RA. He came to the door, and I asked him a very important, but hypothetical question. He understood. We went together down to the office where the spare keys are kept. He had the key to the key box, and the key to the room with the key box, but his key to the room was electronic, and didn't give him access. So many keys, and I can't manage to get into my room. The RA called the Hall Advisor, who could get the key I needed. So I returned to my room to wait for him to bring it.
A couple of minutes later, the Hall Advisor walks in. And what does he notice? A BYU grounds sign on our table. I mumbled something about Andy bringing it in, and he asked permission to take it, because BYU grounds wants those signs returned if they are found in our apartments. As though I had a choice! I told him he could take it, and he told me to pass the message along that we shouldn't take those. He let me into my room, and I promptly unlocked my door. Much thanks, and goodbye, and if I needed any help again to just stop by his place.
Next time I leave my room, my laptop is coming with me. Oh yeah, and my keys too.
boy, what trauma!
ReplyDeleteThat's an awesome story - you are really good at describing the situation and laughing at yourself (in a good way).
ReplyDeleteI don't like to be separated from my laptop for very long either - I do almost everything on it.
You should try shaving with a butter knife sometime - you never know, you might enjoy it!