![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
other exploits
Oct. 3rd, 2005 01:54 pmAs I was sitting here at my desk and kind of idly staring out the window this morning and contemplating the deeper mysteries of .htaccess files, I saw a cyoooooooote white and orange kitty slink onto the porch. I did what I always do upon seeing cute kitties on my porch, of course: squeeed and went to go pet the thing. So I open up the blinds, and get the sliding glass door open, and I'm fiddling with the lock to the screen door, trying to get the pesky thing to open. I see no cat, but I'm thinking, "I'll go out and look around anyway." I got the door open and slid it shut behind me firmly to keep Stranger from getting outside. I spent a couple of minutes scanning for cats, decided I was nuts or the kitty bolted from my "wuv him hug him forevah" vibe which it sensed through the window, and turn to go back inside. Pull on the screen door.... it's locked.
I managed to lock myself out. Barefoot. In my PJs. On the porch.
The front door was locked, and to get to it I'd have to climb over the rails to the porch in my pajamas anyway, which didn't sound that cool to me. I'm standing out there pulling on the screen door in a sort of amazed "no fucking way" kind of way and the cat is meowing and pawing at it from the inside thinking this is a rockin' new game. It was ridiculous. Not even the glass door - the *screen* door. I had all these horrible visions of walking barefoot and in my PJs all the way down to the office so that someone could let me back in my apartment. I didn't want to break the screen door, though, and I was getting dangerously close with my frantic tugging. So I got a stick, thinking I could jimmy the crappy little lock with it. It promptly broke. I then realized that I was smarter than that, reached deep into my brain to acceess my primate tool-using heritage and picked up the grill scraper thingy (kind of a hazard if someone steps on it, really) and managed to push the stupid latch up and get inside before the cat bolted. Fucking lame.
I spent a while messing with the lock but couldn't get it to repeat its "lock someone outside" trick. It's kind of telling, I suppose, that when I was morbidly imagining shame-facedly walking into the office to ask to be let back into my apartment and explaining how I got locked out in such a state I was most irritated to think "and I don't even have the rent check to take down with me."
I managed to lock myself out. Barefoot. In my PJs. On the porch.
The front door was locked, and to get to it I'd have to climb over the rails to the porch in my pajamas anyway, which didn't sound that cool to me. I'm standing out there pulling on the screen door in a sort of amazed "no fucking way" kind of way and the cat is meowing and pawing at it from the inside thinking this is a rockin' new game. It was ridiculous. Not even the glass door - the *screen* door. I had all these horrible visions of walking barefoot and in my PJs all the way down to the office so that someone could let me back in my apartment. I didn't want to break the screen door, though, and I was getting dangerously close with my frantic tugging. So I got a stick, thinking I could jimmy the crappy little lock with it. It promptly broke. I then realized that I was smarter than that, reached deep into my brain to acceess my primate tool-using heritage and picked up the grill scraper thingy (kind of a hazard if someone steps on it, really) and managed to push the stupid latch up and get inside before the cat bolted. Fucking lame.
I spent a while messing with the lock but couldn't get it to repeat its "lock someone outside" trick. It's kind of telling, I suppose, that when I was morbidly imagining shame-facedly walking into the office to ask to be let back into my apartment and explaining how I got locked out in such a state I was most irritated to think "and I don't even have the rent check to take down with me."
