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enismirdalIt was meant to be a day of happy excitingness. First, I was supposed to pick up the keys to my new flat. Then I was supposed to go back to London for a post-viva champagne reception, i.e. a party all about me.
Unfortunately, that's not how it worked out.
I was a little early to the lettings agency, so all the paperwork was sorted by about 2:15pm, so I decided to go over to my new flat to look and say, "Oooo!" and sort the inventory. That was going splendidly - added a couple of items to the inventory, a couple of bits of damage, but nothing major.
And then the problems began. There are 2 doors one needs to pass through to get into my new flat. Door 1 is the street door, and is shared with the guy in the flat above. It has two locks, a yale (which is electronic and hooked into our entry phones, so can be unlocked from inside either flat) and a mortise, which has to be unlocked in person. Because of the faff of going down 3 flights of stairs to open the door, the guy in the flat above leaves the mortise permanently unlocked.
I was given a key for both locks on this door.
The flat door itself, Door 2, opens just into my flat. It also has 2 locks, yale and mortise, but I only had one further key, a yale-type.
"Hmm," thought I. "The mortise lock is listed in the inventory, but the inventory does not say, 'Key not provided'. Also, this door is the only one that secures my stuff personally. The insurance wouldn't be happy if there was only a yale lock between The World and my laptops. And...this is a new conversion. They can't have mislaid the key already." Based on these thoughts, I concluded that it was likely that the mortise key opened both locks, as I've come across keys that work generally in an outer door and then specifically in someone's own door before. So I tried it experimentally in the flat door, Door 2. Very smoothly, the door locked. "Huzzah," thought I. "Clearly this key works both doors, and therefore I DO have full control of the security of my flat."
And then I tried to unlock the flat to leave. I turned the key both ways, only to meet resistance. I pushed the door in and turned. I pulled the door out and turned. I wiggled. I panted. The thing wouldn't budge.
Realising I was locked in and needed to be on a train back to London in half an hour, I phoned the lettings agency and explained. They nipped over with a spare set of keys and a contractor. Their keys, identical to mine, did nothing. They had me toss my keys out of the window so they could try them from without. No joy. They tried the keys from the shop below. No joy. The guy in the flat above works in the shop, so they tried his keys. No joy. So they phoned for an emergency locksmith and left. By which time I was 5 minutes late for my train.
I waited. I phoned the lab to say I'd be a bit late.
I waited. I found mugs, a kettle and some Tetley teabags in the cupboard. This eased the boredom slightly.
I waited. The locksmith didn't come.
I waited. I phoned the lab to say even if the locksmith came now, I'd be over an hour late for my own drinks reception, and left instructions to them to open the bubbly anyway.
My supervisor phoned back and once we'd established he wasn't the long-awaited locksmith, he told me he was going to postpone the party till next week as he felt bad having my party without me. Awwwww.
The locksmith finally came, by which time I'd been stuck in the flat for 2.5 hours, my champagne reception should have started 15 minutes ago and I was desperate to get out. Luckily, he managed to get me out with a minimum of drilling, and the evidence of his visit is nothing more than a 0.5cm wide hold in the door that he's filled with polyfiller.
When I finally made it back to London it was nearly 8pm. I went to the pub and drank far too much wine, but a few stalwarts were still there and I was amusingly mocked and felt a bit better.
Oh, and I walked past Tony Robinson at St Pancras station. Unfortunately, Blackadder jokes evaded me, and besides, he'll have heard them all before and probably just wanted to walk across the station, not be pestered by tired Enis! So I left him to it.
So that was my yesterday. I got locked in my own flat and missed my own drinks reception.
On the plus side, I feel like I've been having some exceptionally good luck lately, so if this is the bad luck that's appeared to counteract all the good luck, I suppose I should be glad that the books have been balanced without something worse happening!
Unfortunately, that's not how it worked out.
I was a little early to the lettings agency, so all the paperwork was sorted by about 2:15pm, so I decided to go over to my new flat to look and say, "Oooo!" and sort the inventory. That was going splendidly - added a couple of items to the inventory, a couple of bits of damage, but nothing major.
And then the problems began. There are 2 doors one needs to pass through to get into my new flat. Door 1 is the street door, and is shared with the guy in the flat above. It has two locks, a yale (which is electronic and hooked into our entry phones, so can be unlocked from inside either flat) and a mortise, which has to be unlocked in person. Because of the faff of going down 3 flights of stairs to open the door, the guy in the flat above leaves the mortise permanently unlocked.
I was given a key for both locks on this door.
The flat door itself, Door 2, opens just into my flat. It also has 2 locks, yale and mortise, but I only had one further key, a yale-type.
"Hmm," thought I. "The mortise lock is listed in the inventory, but the inventory does not say, 'Key not provided'. Also, this door is the only one that secures my stuff personally. The insurance wouldn't be happy if there was only a yale lock between The World and my laptops. And...this is a new conversion. They can't have mislaid the key already." Based on these thoughts, I concluded that it was likely that the mortise key opened both locks, as I've come across keys that work generally in an outer door and then specifically in someone's own door before. So I tried it experimentally in the flat door, Door 2. Very smoothly, the door locked. "Huzzah," thought I. "Clearly this key works both doors, and therefore I DO have full control of the security of my flat."
And then I tried to unlock the flat to leave. I turned the key both ways, only to meet resistance. I pushed the door in and turned. I pulled the door out and turned. I wiggled. I panted. The thing wouldn't budge.
Realising I was locked in and needed to be on a train back to London in half an hour, I phoned the lettings agency and explained. They nipped over with a spare set of keys and a contractor. Their keys, identical to mine, did nothing. They had me toss my keys out of the window so they could try them from without. No joy. They tried the keys from the shop below. No joy. The guy in the flat above works in the shop, so they tried his keys. No joy. So they phoned for an emergency locksmith and left. By which time I was 5 minutes late for my train.
I waited. I phoned the lab to say I'd be a bit late.
I waited. I found mugs, a kettle and some Tetley teabags in the cupboard. This eased the boredom slightly.
I waited. The locksmith didn't come.
I waited. I phoned the lab to say even if the locksmith came now, I'd be over an hour late for my own drinks reception, and left instructions to them to open the bubbly anyway.
My supervisor phoned back and once we'd established he wasn't the long-awaited locksmith, he told me he was going to postpone the party till next week as he felt bad having my party without me. Awwwww.
The locksmith finally came, by which time I'd been stuck in the flat for 2.5 hours, my champagne reception should have started 15 minutes ago and I was desperate to get out. Luckily, he managed to get me out with a minimum of drilling, and the evidence of his visit is nothing more than a 0.5cm wide hold in the door that he's filled with polyfiller.
When I finally made it back to London it was nearly 8pm. I went to the pub and drank far too much wine, but a few stalwarts were still there and I was amusingly mocked and felt a bit better.
Oh, and I walked past Tony Robinson at St Pancras station. Unfortunately, Blackadder jokes evaded me, and besides, he'll have heard them all before and probably just wanted to walk across the station, not be pestered by tired Enis! So I left him to it.
So that was my yesterday. I got locked in my own flat and missed my own drinks reception.
On the plus side, I feel like I've been having some exceptionally good luck lately, so if this is the bad luck that's appeared to counteract all the good luck, I suppose I should be glad that the books have been balanced without something worse happening!
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no subject
Date: 29 May 2010 16:38 (UTC)no subject
Date: 29 May 2010 16:42 (UTC)no subject
Date: 29 May 2010 17:08 (UTC)That's terrible! I'm glad to hear you have a new party waiting for next week, though!
no subject
Date: 30 May 2010 00:32 (UTC)