Sunday, at 6:05am I raise my head off the pillow, the dogs are restless, downstairs.
I march out of the bedroom door, down 11 steps to open the kitchen door.
My honeys love to sleep inside, but equally love to be outside, at day break.
I notice we have about ten butterflies emerging from their chrysalides, and decide to walk back up, get dressed, put some shoes on and keep the emerging babies company, over coffee.
Up the stairs I go.
Boom.
The bedroom door is locked.
This is not the first time I get locked out of my bedroom, barefoot, in my birthday suit.
The first time happened in Curacao, at Lodge Kura Hulanda.
They are still talking about the crazy woman, hopping down the garden path with two pillows clutched desperately to her skin, one in front, one in the back!
So, it’s 6:05 on a Sunday. I am locked out of my bedroom, with my cellphone still in bed.
I yank at the door knob. Please, don’t do it to me, don’t ruin my morning.
Nada, then I yank again.
Panic starts to set in.
First things first, I think, go get a beach towel to cover up and see if you left flip flops outside.
Bingo,
Now fully draped and shod, my brain kicks into action.
Coffee.
I am successful on the third try. Nothing is going my way today, I think.
Then, who will come here at 6:20am on a Sunday to save me?
YouTube.
I remembered the University of YouTube.
Indeed.
I watched How to Pick a Lock with a Butter Knife.
How to Pick a Lock with a Paper Clip, and How to Pick a Lock with a Bobby Pin?
I try the knife.
It looks easy with the professional criminal in the video.
Bobby Pin?
Paper Clip?
For the life of me I find none.
Then in a kitchen drawer I find a hair ornament – see, it pays to be disorganized – and I spend a good hour digging in the key hole. Pushing. I hear no click.
The mean and heartless door remains locked.
By that time, covered in sweat and frustrated, I figure I could start calling the professionals: Good Lock & Key Service and Eumar Lock & Key Service.
I call a few times, finally Good Lock & Key Service answers and in a cheerful tone tells me he is jumping in the shower and coming.
Halleluiah.
I welcomed the man, in my towel.
He wore a facemask and carried a lock picking kit.
He fiddled with the stubborn door knob, for a while. Poking. Jabbing. Shaking.
“A door knob is like a woman, he said, sometimes you got to play with it a while, before it gives.”
I wonder what provoked that thought.
Click, the door magically opened.
Thank you so much Mr. Good Lock & Key Service, life-saving service at a reasonable rate.
