chenb•log

I don’t mind if I’m incomprehensible

Oops!

with 2 comments

My hair was pretty long. It’s nice for keeping my giant head warm during the wintry weathers, but long hair takes more time to care for, and since I have a meeting with “clients” tomorrow, I thought I’d just go get it cut.

However, Fate is a sexy but annoying bitch, and she had something else in mind.

Before I had the chance to say “shit,” I was holding half of my door key. The other half was securely deposited in the lock, mocking me and my long hair. Surprisingly, I didn’t say shit at all. I just calmly considered my options–whom I could call and where to look up phone numbers for a locksmith–and did what any reasonable person would do in that situation: walk to work.

While I was looking up locksmiths on what is, accordingly to Steve Jobs, the COOLEST FUCKING MOST AWESOME EVER AND SOON TO BE AVAILABLE ON THE iPHONE MAP SERVICE, Google Maps, Robert, being much smarter, and more of a do-it-yourself dude than I am, suggested on IRC that I could try getting the key out myself. It was a fine idea. And I left work armed with four phone numbers for lock places if that doesn’t work out. (Yep, four. I guess Corvallis is not THAT small.)

It didn’t work out. Fred Meyer didn’t sell any tools that were remotely small enough for the job. So I started dialing them numbers.

An aside: why do I, and probably some other people, forget the very fact that I try to recall? A band name, an actor, a title, or in this case, my own phone number. Twice today, I couldn’t remember it. All I can think of was my work number, and that was what the locksmith wrote down on my check and the receipt. Seriously, anyone know why?

“Hi, how are you doing?”
“Good. Better than you. And probably warmer.”
“Oh I had no plan to be outside.”

And so the locksmith worked quickly to retrieve the partial key from the lock and was able to make copies from the two pieces. Cost: $60. It wasn’t that much if you consider that a meal for two in a restaurant somewhere in uptown Portland can easily run that much, and that is if you drink water, not wine. Or that a tank of gas cost $30+. But still, $60, and all I got was two shiny keys.

On the upside though, while I was standing by the street waiting for the locksmith, a large group–about 30, perhaps?–of girls passed by while running. (A sorority? A running club of sort? Do I really give a shit?) And one of them even said hi. God bless eProps to women who run in this damn cold weather.

Oh yeah, I also got an[other shitty] haircut.

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Written by Barry

January 15, 2007 at 6:44 pm

Posted in General

2 Responses

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  1. you should have dropped your stuff and ran behind them!

    Eric

    January 22, 2007 at 4:19 pm

  2. I didn’t have any stuff, but I was waiting for the locksmith, which was vastly more important.

    Barry

    January 22, 2007 at 5:53 pm


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