[Chefelf]

As some of you may or may not be aware, the MTA (New York City's buses and subways) decided to strike at 3:00AM this past Tuesday morning. This turned my normal 40-50 minute commute via subway into a 3 hour trek from one end of Manhattan to the other. A friend was nice enough to let me stay at her place which was located 90 blocks closer to where I work, so that was nice. However, my walk to and from work was still 70 blocks. The rest of the week was filled with price-gouging cabs and

Here are the cab numbers of some cabbies who tried to price-gouge me for those who are interested: 5J23, 9J54, 5M20, 5L75. Those are just a few of the more argumentative cabbies who actually had the 'decency' to not screech their tires and speed off when I requested a ride uptown. Most of the cab drivers asked the question, "How much do you want to pay?" I would respond with, "I'd like to pay the fair amount based on the emergency zone system that New York City has set up in the wake of this transit strike." They would then respond with, "How about you pay a fee twice as much based on my own imagined zone system because I know you have no choice."

Eventually I caved and paid $20 to cab driver 5L75 who was screwing me over less than most of the others (only an extra $5.00). I had to get home eventually.

Yesterday, I boarded the A train for the first time in four days and it was delightful. The homeless man sleeping across five seats filled the car with the aroma of stale feces. Let me tell you, the stale smell of human turds has never smelled so warm and inviting. However, this did not stop me from switching cars at 145th street.

This morning I prepared all my baggage for my return to Rhode Island for Christmas. I decided to step out of the house and quickly mail a few letters. As soon as the door shut I felt my heart sink as I realized that my keys were on my desk. I only had one hour until my ride to Rhode Island arrived so I had to think fast.

My super did not answer his door or his phone as is his usual habit. After 15 minutes I decided that I had to think fast. Surveying the outside of the apartment I realized that the windows were all friggin' high up. Moreso, they were all locked... except for one.

I decided to step around the front of the building I saw a dog bent over gnawing on what appeared to be his own excrement. The dog was about the foulest looking thing I've ever seen, resembling a dirty mop more than a canine. As I approached the dog began growling and snapping at me, foam spitting from its filthy jowls. My fight or flight instincts kicked in and I delivered a roundhouse kick in his general direction. This may not have been my best idea as the dog then lunged at me and then I opted to try out the "flight" option and ran out into the street as the disgusting little fleabag chased me around a car. Luckily the rabies must be in a late stage because the dog went back to gnawing at his own dung and promptly forgot about me.

I spent the next five minutes warning pedestrians to cross the street, especially those with dogs of their own.

After this I returned sheepishly to the task at hand: How to get into my apartment. The window to the living room was unlocked but it appeared that I'd need an 80 foot ladder or a trampoline to attempt it. I realized I had also left the kitchen window open. There was a fire escape somewhere in the vicinity of the window. If I could somehow do some climbing I could manage to get to the window.

I climbed up the side of the fire escape and then grabbed onto some pipes and was able to shimmy my way on a very precarious ledge towards the window. The problem was that the bottom part of the window opened and was covered by bars on the window. The top part of the window opened the same amount (about a foot) but was much higher. After much deliberation I decided that the top window was my best bet... only I didn't know if I should attempt feet first or head first.

I was able to climb a bit higher using the pipe to my side and toss my feet into the tiny opening at the top of the window. With one good shove I got myself into the top of the window and realized that there was a 50% chance that I would break my back, a 50% chance I would break my neck and a 75% chance I would break both. Defying all the odds, I bent my body into an extremely uncomfortable shape and slithered like a snake down into the my kitchen.

The windowsill is lined with pots and pans which all came crashing loudly to the floor as I fell in through the window. Luckily there was also a knife rack to break my fall. The only thing to grab was a 200 degree hot water pipe, which I did, burning my hand as I swung around to land on my feet.

I felt triumphant as I stood in my kitchen with a bleeding shin and a burned hand. I had defied the odds and lived to tell the tale.

All that and it isn't even 11:00AM yet. I guess you could say that I have a shittier day before breakfast than most people manage to have all day.

My ride's here in a few minutes. Merry Christmas everybody! Remember your keys!

[Deepsycher]

I like that, shows a possibility that the cab drivers can be on it together with the strikers.
Well after loosing your keys, vectoring to find a way in, opposing the forces of magnitude.
Always make sure that there are no opposing forces, by carrying two keys.

This post has been edited by Deepsycher: 25 December 2005 - 12:20 PM

[Laura]

Here's another amusing blog entry about getting locked out! The blog is miniproportions, it's about an American living in Vancouver with her Canadian wife, and for some reason, it often reminds me of you, Nate.

[Chefelf]

Wow, sorry I'm just seeing this now, Laura. An american living in Vancouver with her Canadian wife... it's like the opposite of me (or Jen, I can't figure out which).

Thanks, Laura!