:: The Blurst of Times ::

:: 9.09.2002 ::

I had the following things to write about today: Buying a car, watching Donnie Darko, working on group projects, shopping at Sam's Club, getting an awesome Sopranos picture, playing soccer, the essence of blogging, and talking to friends. However all of these things have been pre-empted by my latest story (not yet one hour old) of locking my girlfriend out of her house.


Yes, this is what my grandfather would call "a real boner" on my part. The set up: I mortally loathe crickets. My girlfriend lives in a basement apartment that has a door that locks at the top of the stairs leading outside, and a door that locks at the bottom of the stairs leading into her apartment. The top door is a dead bolt lock, while the door at the bottom of the stairs is a push-button lock that the inside knob releases. I have a key to the top lock (as does Girlfriend), but no one (including the landlord) has a key to the bottom lock.My key is a copy of Girlfriend's, made at WalMart that sometimes doesn't work very well to lock the top door. This morning: Girlfriend went to work as usual. I got up, showered and went to leave. Upon closing the bottom door, I saw a huge cricket sitting on the stiars. In my own cowardice, I jumped over him and ran out the top door. I tried to lock the top door. I tried for about three minutes, jiggling and rattling the lock, hoping the tumblers would fall. Alas, they did not. I had the idea to just lock the bottom door, like Girlfriend had done the other night (the idea that I had did not include the vital information that she was inside when she locked it). I went back down the stairs and saw the cricket had moved in between the bottom stair and the door. So when I opened the door the cricket got in. I chased the cricket in, kept it in the middle of the kitchen, grabbed some tupperware, spent five minutes trying to get the cricket under the tupperware, finally got it and flushed it down the toilet. Threw said tupperware in the sink, thinking Girlfriend would be so grateful I prevented the cricket access to her house, she would be more than happy to wash a piece of tupperware with her dishes. Then I proceded with the plan of locking the door and pulling it shut behind me. FUCK It hits me like a ton of bricks. Everyone is now locked out of this space. I call Girlfriend and leave a message on her cell. I bang head repeatedly on the wall. I am waiting for the return call. I'm so dead.

Fred, out...
:: Freddy F. at 10:18 AM [+] ::