Locked Out 2

A few years ago through a series of random events I managed to lock myself out of my car with Frank inside. I could've put the door window in to get into the car or called my breakdown cover to get into the vehicle, but instead I spent around 30 minutes breaking into my own car, helped by a willing accomplice. The story remains one of the funniest I have written about on here, and if you've not read it you really should. 

In the past week I have managed to get locked out of two things again; the first being my own house and the second one of our kitchen drawers.

I have been ill on and off for the past month and a bit, fighting a general cold, then later a chest infection, that later became bronchitis that was successfully treated. I feel now that I might be on the right track to a full recovery, but after weeks on end of feeling sweaty, shivery, fevery and with a hacking cough (that provided the rather alarm appearance of blood) it has been a long time coming. And it has nessecitated a lot of days off work sadly, with the total number taken in the past few weeks greatly exceeding my entire number of days of sick in my career to date.

Connie's cousin Amanda was here and sadly had to put up with my coughing and my illness, with me fighting through it to go to Inverness and Aberdeen, and my displacement to the couch helping everyone sleep. On Tuesday last week, the day after my second course of anti-biotics had really began to take hold, Connie, Amanda and Joni decided to go to Edinburgh, the Scotland Theme Park on the East Coast. I would have gone with them in normal circumstances, but I couldn't take the day off as a holiday and then go through in the wind in the rain when my sleep was interupted with coughing and Frank, with whom I was sharing a "bedroom", licking my face at 5am wanting to be let out to pee, it was best for me to stay at home and watch Daredevil¹ and play Rollercoaster Tycoon 2.²

That was the plan anyway. After seeing them onto the train I returned to the car to head home with my biggest plans being to slip into bed and I got a call from Connie on the Bluetooth - "Mark, I have both sets of house keys. You're locked out".

Brilliant, though no ones fault. In our rush to make the train we had bungled the locking of the front door, with Connie using my keys (that I had left in the door for her to lock) meaning we both thought we had, in our separate ways, locked the door. I drove back to the house and checked that we had actually locked the doors (honestly, that's been missed more times than it should have) and then I went across the street to see if our neighbour was in. Anne and Andy have keys for our house to keep an eye on stuff whilst we were away over Christmas. After knocking a few times it was clear that there was no one in and I returned to my car. I sit there and laughed, amused by the situation, before remembering something Connie had said - my parents have keys too. So I called my mother to check if they are available - and there's no answer. So for a short few minutes I sit in my car, the place that I was locked out of previously, with my house and bed sitting less than 10 yards from me, calling my name seductively. My mother rang me back shortly afterwards stating that the keys were available and later on I picked them up.

It did briefly flash through my mind thinking I could probably break into my house. If it had been Joni left there, with no keys and no chance of getting in, I know of a place in my garden to find some very useful bricks and I am certain that I'd pick up the tab.

Then this weekend I was tifying up the house and found that, unusually, one of the key kitchen drawers was not opening. It appeared that something on the inside had slipped meaning that the draw was being obstructed from opening. In the drawer is a french bread bag, for serving cut bagettes, cork place mats, and our worn and nneding replaced placements. One, or more, had fallen in an angled position and was hitting the underside of the drawer. I shoogled the drawer, but nothing was moving. With only a quarter of an inch of space opened up, I rammed a spoon, then a fork, before using our "BBQ Skewer" into the drawer trying to dislodge the errant mat. Nothing was working - Connie and I did a two-pronged approach on either side of the drawer, using a torch to see into the drawer, but nothing was happening. 

The internet suggested that I use a coat hanger, a flexible chopping board, or just sack it and drill into the based of the drawer and use destruction as the final nuclear option. I wasn't going to be defeated by this, and after a few minutes of laughing again at the siutation I had managed to get us into, I forcefully shoogled the drawer for a few minutes until it randomly, and wihtout explanation, suddenly opened. I quickly emptied the drawer and shouted "Yes!" loudly, fist pumping the air.

I had beat the drawer. Locked Out 0 - 3 Mark.

1. Daredevil is brilliant. I've watched a few episodes in bits and I am ever increasingly impressed. Avengers: Age of Ultron was a 7/10.
2. I managed to break my Excitement rating on a rollercoaster last week - "Extreme" 10.52.