An expensive lesson

We have a spare key for our house, hidden outside just in case we get locked out.  Usually this isn’t something to advertise, but I’m moving out in about a week, so I can’t see it mattering.

Last night was the Rowing Club Pimms Party, and I decided to leave my keys behind and use the spare to avoid pocket bulge (not a good look in Chinos).  I got home – drunk – and to make sure no one saw that I was using the spare key, I brought it inside and placed it in the inside of the door.

I saw it the next morning and thought to myself I had better make sure I take that out, as it is impossible to open the door from outside whilst the key is in there. About ten minutes later I nipped to the shop up the road, completely forgetting my own advice.  The rest should be painfully obvious.

And of course this was the day when all my housemates were away on a charity hitchhike so there was nobody in the house.

I spent the next hour making various attempts to get the key out. I got a wire hanger from two doors down and fashioned it into all manner of fun shapes in a futile bid to get the key out using the letter box.  Eventually, seeking refuge with the Girl Next Door (who more than deserves the capitalisation and just goes to show that every cloud…), I called a locksmith.

The chap arrived, spent less than ten minutes jimmying the door with a bit of plastic, explained that my type of door always causes these types of problems and were in fact the reason he became a locksmith, job done.  This cost me fifty pounds.  With the student discount.  And he was the cheapest of the three locksmiths I had called.

So I am fifty quid poorer, but learnt a little bit about doors and my neighbours, and a valuable lesson (namely don’t leave the spare key in the door when you’re going to be on the other side of it), so maybe it’s a fair trade?

No.  No it isn’t.  I got badly ripped off.

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