On my first day back to work, I woke up ready to take on anything. I slid out of bed and proceeded to conduct my morning rituals. You all know that I smoke. Yes, I've tried quitting. I typically go out on our tiny balcony for my morning smoke. When I say our balcony is tiny, I mean it. I measures about 9 inches in depth, 5 feet in width.
Like I was saying, I stepped out onto the balcony and lit up my cigarette. It was like any other morning. The birds were singing, below me I saw that the neighbors dog yet again managed to escape and was crapping all over my other neighbor's yard. That damn dog is always carrying a stick around. A couple times I've seen it crap with a stick in it's mouth. Not a bad way to go, if you're crapping.
I usually carry our cordless phone out with me during my morning smoke. Mrs. Vavoom usually calls to bid me good morning and I wouldn't want to miss that call. I'd finished up my smoke, turned slightly to open the sliding door. It was stuck. No matter how much I pulled on the damn thing, it wouldn't open.
I proceeded to put my weight into it. "Open, goddamn you!" As I pulled, the cordless phone slipped, falling into my downstair neighbor's yard. "Oh, shit!" Remember that dog that likes to chew on sticks? The one that craps all over everything? He mosied over to our phone and began mashing his teeth on it.
The phone rang. It must have been Mrs. Vavoom. Of course, the dog didn't seem to mind the ringing. He simply backed off the phone, started barking at it and then really laid into it with his teeth.
All of his barking woke my neighbor. He came out into his yard. "Get, get," he yelled at the dog. "Hi there," I responded, "Could you help me? You see that phone down there... the one the dog was chewing on? Yeah, could you throw it up to me? Also, I'm trapped, my sliding door won't open..."
He threw the phone up to me and replied, "I can't help you get in. If you haven't figured out a way in within a half an hour, I'll call the management." Having said that, he quickly retreated back into his apartment. "Wait, wait... can you call now," I pleaded. It was too late. He was gone.
I was wearing my pajama bottoms and my trusted North Face jacket. I searched the pockets of my jacket and... yes! Our group's leatherman
was in my pocket! I was looking for it the last few days. I guess I put it in my jacket and forgot to return it.
I pulled off the side veneering on the door and accessed the lock. Presto-changeo, I was in.
I'm not saying that I live a glamorous life, but it does get interesting...
p.s. I'm having trouble accessing the photos from our trip to the Caribbean. I promise I'll post about our vacation.