Uh . . .

To begin with, our door has two different key holes, one for the handle and one that bolts it shut. We never received the bolt one and assumed somebody lost it because I guess they're impossible to remake. So I come home from work . . . la ti da . . . and I unlock the door and it opens 1/4 inch and stops. Huh? I try again and again and again. "What the heck," I am thinking. "Is it bolted? How could it be bolted. We don't have a key. How and why would it be bolted?" So I look in the mailbox for a key and there's some advertisement. So I rip it up and roll it up to stick in the hole to see if it's locked (beause normally it's just a hole you can see right thru into our apartment). And yep- it's locked. I cannot get in my apartment. Greg is at school and he has the landlord's phone number. I asked him for it the other day because "you never know what can happen" and he says, "what good would it do you, the guy only speaks french". I also happened to do my laundry at the Cole's today. So here I have my see through basket full of garments and I'm thirsty, have to pee and am optionless. Oh yeah, and Greg wasn't going to be home from class for another 3 hours. YIPEE!!!!

Meanwhile a young man walks by and we probably say "bonsoir" or something. As he is buzzing someone in the building I hesitate, then say, "Parlez-vous englais?" And he says a little. I explain the situation and he tries unlock it for me, though I knew it wouldn't work. So I ask if whoever he knows in the building could get me the landlord's number. So up the stairs we go. I'd never been up the stairs before. (Our door is right at the entrance.) So we walk in and immediately I smell marijuana and here I am alone in an apartment with two strange men. They're speaking a bunch of french and I'm feeling a little weird being there, but don't really know where else to go. So the guy who lives in my building gets on the phone and all this french is exchanged and he tells me the landlord came by this morning and then locked the door on his way out and will come to their aprartment with the key. A part of me wanted to just go downstairs and wait by the door- but they were so kind, I didn't want to be rude. But as they were talking about wanting to smoke pot I just kept thinking about the "stand ye in holy places" scripture and if they started smoking it would really not be a holy place. I think I was there 45 minutes. It was a relief when I heard that annoying buzzzzz. It really wasn't that bad. They were really nice and we just talked about music and this and that. I just felt strange being in an apartment that smelled like pot and being alone with men. So now I have the key and I won't get locked out again. You know that feeling where you walk in the door of your home and immediately exhale and it just feels good and welcoming? Yes, it was like that today.