Less lucky than some, but more than most

My landlady, her daughter and her son in law all went on vacation together for 10 days. They are the other people who live at my house. J, the guy she hires to do maintenance, came over today to take care of some things. He had a key so I said hello and made a little small talk and then left.

I came home tonight to find that both of the front doors were locked. J had used locks on the doors that we, residents, never use. Locks to which I do not have keys. I suspect that my landlady doesn't have keys to these locks either. I don't understand why he did this. He's worked at the house countless times in the two years that I have lived here. And I have never come home to a situation like this since moving here.

Of course, this being a house in Brooklyn, I can't get into through the back. I can't get into the back. I can't get in through a window (they have bars). I can't climb up to a floor where I could get in through a window. And with all my misspent years, i never learned to pick a lock.

So I am now at the LYM's house for the night for an impromptu sleep over. Meditating on my fears of homelessness, couch surfing.

And tomorrow, I will call a locksmith and wait on the stoop, or in a park or at the library or in a coffee shop until it's time to meet up.

Grrrrrr.