A few days before the zombie 5K race I did in April, I remembered that I was supposed to be working out at least 3 times a week, but I wasn’t because NEWS FLASH I am lazy and hate working out. I mentioned this to my mom and she convinced me to go to the Y with her that night because she is a horrible person good mom who helps me remember my commitments to myself. After working out we decided to use the hot tub for a little while, so I put on my swimsuit and threw all my stuff into my locker but then I realized I still had my cell phone in my hand, and since I didn’t want to drop my phone into the hot tub (because I am TOTALLY the kind of person who would drop her phone in the hot tub) I opened up my locker, tossed in my cell phone, and headed back to the hot tub. After the hot tub I had a shower…and when I went back to my locker to get dressed I realized I did not have my keys. At that moment I knew exactly where they were they were, but out of a desperate sort of optimism I checked back by the showers and the hot tub to see if I had left them there. Of course the keys were not there, because they were exactly where I knew they would be. In my locker.
I took a moment to let this sink in. I had locked my keys in locker. Also, I was dripping wet and almost naked.
My mom did not have a spare key to my locker (why would she?). My husband does, but he didn’t come with us that day because he was at work. So we weighed our options:
(1) Call my dad to bring one of my kids to the gym with the spare key from my house. Inconvenient but manageable. We put this on the “maybe” list.
(2) Wrap up in towels and walk out to the car in shame, dripping water everywhere. Not possible because (a) it was cold outside, and (b) we had driven together in my car.
(3) Send Mom up to the front desk to see if they had a bolt cutter. We opted for this choice, but kept option 1 on deck in case this did not work.
While I waited for Mom to come back, I sat pathetically in front of my locker, wrapped in towels to keep warm. Meanwhile, another lady came back to use her locker and reassured me that she too had locked herself out once. “I bought a combination lock the next day” she said. I added this to my mental to-do list (because my real to-do list is in my phone which was in my locker), knowing full well that I would probably forget it because I can’t remember anything unless I write it down (hence the to-do list on my phone). Now, don’t think I was a total negative nancy about the situation. I definitely saw the humor in it and might have even tweeted or facebooked about it except that my phone was, as you know, in my locker.
Finally Mom reappeared and said the front desk person couldn’t come down to open the locker because only the managers have access to the bolt cutters. On a normal day it might be comforting to know that people can’t just grab a boltcutter and open lockers willy-nilly, but this was not a day I was hoping for stringent security measures. After waiting a little longer I started to worry that maybe there wasn’t anyone on duty who had access to the bolt cutters, and started to contemplate the “call dad” plan again.
Before it came to that, a petite young woman appeared with a set of bolt cutters that came up to her waist.* Surprisingly, these bolt cutters were not heavy enough to cut through my padlock.** Much to my surprise, she informed me that there was one larger bolt cutter & disappeared for a few minutes. When she returned, she was carrying an instrument that looked something like this:
To illustrate the size a little better, consider that I am only 64″ tall and the young woman wielding this implement of destruction was even shorter than I am. Here is a picture I found online of a woman standing next to a broken 42″ bolt cutter:
It took 2 of us, but we did eventually manage to cut the lock open. Though I did worry slightly that the thing would slip out of our hands and knock out someone’s front teeth, we all made it out unscathed.
Now the bigger question is, have I bought a combination lock for my locker yet? No, because every time I go to the store I forget that I need one. In fact, I even forgot this had happened until I stumbled across the unfinished blog in my drafts folder yesterday.
Please. Don’t act like you didn’t know I was going to say that.
*I am not even exaggerating. I would have taken a picture but, as I said, my phone was still in the locker.
**Master locks all the way, baby!