06-12-2004, 08:33 PM
So, I get my haircut. Real number 2 buzz, no bullshit, except for that gay flip in the front which i'll poison to death with peroxide.
Walking home. Feeling pimp and everything. Buy my mach 3 gillete turbo super alien technology bullshit razor tips.
Get home...
Put my key in the lock, turn, and *SNAP* - Shit is snapped in half with the square-head of the key breaking off from the slender fragment containing the teeth, deathyl lodged in the keyhole.
Call the doorman, he calls the superintendent of complex. Instead, supervisor of the building arrives, drunk as fuck, but I'm used to that.
-Next half-fucking hour is spent with me observing this dude's fine motor skills prying out an unmovable broken key from the keyhole using high-tech equipment such as the nail file, nail clipper and the famous "phillips screwdriver plus hammer" combo...
So after polite dialogue emphasizing how he hasn't been doing shit. I decide, "what the hell," and knock on my orthodox Jewish neighbor's home.. After successfully 4-1-1-ing every damn locksmith company in the Bronx/Yonkers area, I finally manage to contact an emergency locksmith number with an actual human being answering my desperate cries for help.
Since this is an emergency number, it's only fair that this locksmith M.D. charges $90 for one of his emergency visits.
Seeing that I am short of funds after having ventured back from the local corner store, I somehow manage to convince my neighbor that the extra money he's now sparing me to help my door unfuck, will be paid back ASAP.
Of course, since it is Shabbos, the guy cannot handle any form of currency, so he carefully deliberates with the higher forces and comes to the conclusion that I must open the suitcase, which contains an envelope which I must open, which contains money that only I can touch....
Finally, after I have cleverly executed this transaction, I return to my residence just in time to find my folks walking by, six or seven hours earlier than their expected arrival, looking at me peculiarly as I approach them with a conspicuous wad of dough. I begin doing my best to explain just WTF has happened, when the most dishevelled excuse for a locksmith strolls by. Of course, my early-arriving folks have already opened the door, but it is only fair to pay the $40 services to the good sumeritan for making his 15 minute trip from broadway.
-Since it's a $130 total, the folks and I agree that we can solve this problem easily by SPLITTING it 50/50 ?!
I happily hand over my $65 dollar share of the "bargain," and everything is back to just fucking normal :banghead:
Walking home. Feeling pimp and everything. Buy my mach 3 gillete turbo super alien technology bullshit razor tips.
Get home...
Put my key in the lock, turn, and *SNAP* - Shit is snapped in half with the square-head of the key breaking off from the slender fragment containing the teeth, deathyl lodged in the keyhole.
Call the doorman, he calls the superintendent of complex. Instead, supervisor of the building arrives, drunk as fuck, but I'm used to that.
-Next half-fucking hour is spent with me observing this dude's fine motor skills prying out an unmovable broken key from the keyhole using high-tech equipment such as the nail file, nail clipper and the famous "phillips screwdriver plus hammer" combo...
So after polite dialogue emphasizing how he hasn't been doing shit. I decide, "what the hell," and knock on my orthodox Jewish neighbor's home.. After successfully 4-1-1-ing every damn locksmith company in the Bronx/Yonkers area, I finally manage to contact an emergency locksmith number with an actual human being answering my desperate cries for help.
Since this is an emergency number, it's only fair that this locksmith M.D. charges $90 for one of his emergency visits.
Seeing that I am short of funds after having ventured back from the local corner store, I somehow manage to convince my neighbor that the extra money he's now sparing me to help my door unfuck, will be paid back ASAP.
Of course, since it is Shabbos, the guy cannot handle any form of currency, so he carefully deliberates with the higher forces and comes to the conclusion that I must open the suitcase, which contains an envelope which I must open, which contains money that only I can touch....
Finally, after I have cleverly executed this transaction, I return to my residence just in time to find my folks walking by, six or seven hours earlier than their expected arrival, looking at me peculiarly as I approach them with a conspicuous wad of dough. I begin doing my best to explain just WTF has happened, when the most dishevelled excuse for a locksmith strolls by. Of course, my early-arriving folks have already opened the door, but it is only fair to pay the $40 services to the good sumeritan for making his 15 minute trip from broadway.
-Since it's a $130 total, the folks and I agree that we can solve this problem easily by SPLITTING it 50/50 ?!
I happily hand over my $65 dollar share of the "bargain," and everything is back to just fucking normal :banghead: