It should have been an ordinary day. A simple day. A day like any other day that passes by without creating any type of impression in the mind to make it a memorable day.
It was a rainy day. Quite a blustery day, as Winnie the Pooh would say. It seemed like the perfect day to do laundry. Which I did.
With the first load in, I came upstairs waiting by the doors for my friend to arrive with the barbecue sauce. My friend went to the store to pick up some country ribs. I had picked up the same the day before, but forgot the barbecue sauce. Since I planned on cooking the ribs, I wanted to slather them in this sauce and asked my friend to pick me up a bottle.
So I was standing downstairs, still inside the building and not in the lobby that was heated by the furnace downstairs. I stood inside the building, holding Jaq, looking at the strange man who took shelter under the blue awning outside. Such a blustery, rainy day outside. You could imagine Rabbit and Tigger taking a ride in the rising rainwater rushing to the gutters in an upside down black umbrella.
After I retrieved the barbecue sauce from my friend, I headed back upstairs to do a few things while waiting to put the second load of laundry in. When the time arrived, I hurried downstairs with The Overlord, two bags of trash, an empty milk container, a roll of quarters, and a blue umbrella. I went out the door at the back of the building, lifting the open umbrella up high, as I barely paid attention to the click of the door behind me. I threw out the trash and the recycling in the appropriate receptacles. And that was when I realized...
I took the umbrella with me.
I took the roll of quarters with me.
I took the bags of trash and recycling with me.
I took The Overlord with me, of course.
Nowhere in that list says that I had my KEYS. I was locked out of the building. I hurried around to the front, the rain trying to soak into my slippers, as I passed by the man still standing under the blue awning. I went to the intercom box, buzzing every apartment while knowing one simple truth.
When someone wants inside the building during the weekday, they buzz my apartment. Tenants. Laundry repair guys. Maintenance men. FedX. They buzz my apartment because they know I'm the only person home at that time because I work from home. They know I'm a nice person who won't just ignore the buzzer when it BBBZZZZTTT!
Nobody was going to answer.
So I stood there, debating my options. Since nobody was home, I had to find a different way inside. It was around 11am. So I wasn't expecting anybody to get home until around 3pm or 4pm. I couldn't wait that long with a baby in my arms who was busy soiling her diaper in a very stinky mess. This meant I would need to call the apartment management, who would charge me a $35 lockout fee to get inside.
It was a blustery day. I was fine with paying the fee. What wasn't fine was what I didn't mention in the list about. Something that I needed to make a CALL to the apartment management.
My cell phone was also upstairs with my keys.
I didn't hesitate. I asked the man if I could borrow his cell phone to make a call. He said yes, but unfortunately I couldn't remember the phone number and he didn't have internet access to look up the number. Fortunately, a woman living in the apartment building next to mine came up. I asked to use her phone, including looking up the number.
My call was soon winging its way across the wireless tower networks to the apartment management building. They said they would send someone to let me in.
I thanked the woman. I thanked the man. The woman said I was welcome and left. The man said I was welcome and continued to stand under the blue awning, keeping dry like Christopher Robbin in his large tree that was his gateway in reaching the 100-Hundred Aker Woods.
I offered him the use of my umbrella (I had extra upstairs), but he declined. The man was just waiting for a certain bus to arrive down the street and took shelter under the awning. I closed the outer door, waiting in the small foyer for the maintenance man to arrive while the man hurried on his way when the time arrived. Occasionally, I opened the outer door to get some fresh air, The Overlord's soiled diaper very fragrant. The Overlord was herself the whole time, precocious and babbling and trying to lick the keyhole.
The maintenance man arrived, getting me inside after trying to find the right key, relating his own tale of being locked out of the building which involved a worse situation than mine (a bathroom towel and a door swinging shut). He followed me up to my apartment, where I proved my identity with my driver's license since they didn't want strangers breaking in (or tenants falsely claiming they were other tenants to avoid paying the lockout fee).
Once inside, I grabbed my keys, finished the laundry, and had a relatively peaceful day. Later, I watched the news about the shooting at the Western Psychiatric Institute and Clinic, as news reporters reported close to the scene as I was glad I didn't have to take The Overlord to the pediatrician's office that day. The bus I would have rode would have taken me right past the place where the shooting was.
Thursday. That Was A Day That Was. A day of ups and downs and blustery weather. A day that should have been an ordinary day.