I was in Chandler Arizona for Spring break...visiting my travelling husband. My door kicking abilities have gotten me into trouble in the past and so thought long and hard if I wanted to repeat the problems associated with such a decision. (See "I kicked down the door" my first post in January...funny. If you don't laugh you'll cry...)
Let me take you back to last week and my visit to Arizona. The week previously I had suggested it would be cheaper (for the company...as if I cared about their money?) and better for my dear husband that he reside in a condo instead of the residence hotel. I pictured him slowly going mad living for 8 or more months in a single room with only a microwave and very small refrigerator for food and no stove to cook on. Now granted, he would get a free breakfast and clean sheets and towels once a week, but at best the situation to me sounded grim. Many of the travel construction guys lived in hotels, but maybe they didn't have a wife who cared to hook them up with something better like I did.
After a bit of investigation I discovered several of the new condo complexes would rent for as few as three months would furnish an apartment with all you needed...or so they stated. And was quite surprised when I arrived and discovered their promise was true. Complete down to the bed, tables, couch, towels, sheets, and kitchen items including silverware, dishes, pots, pans, an ironing board, vacuum and mop (which I'm sure will be pristine when he moves out...).
They had done a lovely job of putting everything you can imagine in place and everything was in some shade of tan or beige...very non-descript, but for the most part new or almost new...right down to the dish cloth in the kitchen. How handy is that! Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, kitchen, dining area and huge balcony for a little more than half of what a hotel cost! All I had to do was accent the decor with family photos, colorful pillows, and get a memory foam topper and some sheets for the bed that weren't made of sandpaper and walla! Home sweet home, for my hubby for a while.
So mid-week after most of my Costco-wallmart shopping was concluded I went to the condo management office and introduced myself to Shane, the young man at the desk and asked about the key to the hot-tub and pool areas. After jangling and fussing with a huge ring of keys he produced a key he stated would open not only the pools, but also the work-out, and kiddie play area. I was on my way back to the apartment and decided to see about the heat in the jacuzzi. Placing my new key into the lock, even without turning, the door pushed open into the child-safe enclosure and I put my hand in the warm water.
I didn't even flinch when I heard the door clang shut just as I turned to leave. I had the key right! Wrong! I tried my key on the inside of the locked door...no luck! Then reaching my hand through the gate to the outside lock, placed the key into that lock....nothing! I turned it so hard it started to bend so pulled it out before we were charged with them having to put in all new locks...and besides the darn thing just wouldn't fit. Hmmmm this was a flashback to just a few months ago. How could this be...the key had worked on the pool lock when I tried it, didn't it? It opened the jacuzzi door didn't it...? or did it?
"Help!", I called out, embarrassed with my situation. I was not very loud at first, then after a few minutes tried again and tossing dignity aside bellowed out, "Help! HELP!" Looking up and down the manicured lawns and past the fountain, I saw no one. Well, harrumph! I was not going to remain in that enclosure all day, and assuming no one would magically appear, as I had not seen one sole since I had arrived five days previously, and knew of no one I could call...oops...I didn't have my phone with me! Darn!
What to do? Kick down the door? I eyed the wrought iron with suspicion. It was very sturdy but doubted my legs were that good. It looked not easy to loosen, and the dead bold was clearly engaged. At the top of the iron enclosure were tall spikes, so climbing over those was out of the question! I was sure I would become impaled on one of them and die bleeding to death, with one of the menacing looking spikes stuck in my rear end.
Then it came to me...if the door to the filter area would open (it did!) I could roll the concrete cigarette ashtray/trash receptacle over there and climb up on the filter then onto the wall...sans-spikes and drop down onto the grass. Easy, piece of cake...Oh did I mention I'm past social security retirement age...Broken hips and snapped femur bones came to mind, but then I pushed that out of my head since my bone density last year was the thickness of a rhino.
I heaved and shoved and rolled the heavy stone receptacle through the gate and over to the filter...like a gazelle I was up on the fence...like a glove...all fit into place...however...it was still 9-10 feet to the ground and my ankle still hurt from a fall I took a few weeks ago at a hotel with a non marked drop-off...I should have sued!
But anyway once on the fence I noticed a small tree not too far from the wall...I shimmied over to be near the tree (good thing I'm not a little person-midget like my husband told all the guys at work, however that's better than at the last job where he told them I was a paraplegic...see previous entry about the youngest of five boys being an unrelenting tease) and then stretched out my nice-long-leg and with one foot on the tree I could reach out to the closest branch, hang on, walk down the trunk until I hung there like a stranded monkey and finally dropped down the last 3-4 feet to the grass. I had escaped.
Later when I told Patrick about the harrowing incident his response was, "Gosh I wish I was there with a camera!" How could I have hoped for anything less!!!
Let me take you back to last week and my visit to Arizona. The week previously I had suggested it would be cheaper (for the company...as if I cared about their money?) and better for my dear husband that he reside in a condo instead of the residence hotel. I pictured him slowly going mad living for 8 or more months in a single room with only a microwave and very small refrigerator for food and no stove to cook on. Now granted, he would get a free breakfast and clean sheets and towels once a week, but at best the situation to me sounded grim. Many of the travel construction guys lived in hotels, but maybe they didn't have a wife who cared to hook them up with something better like I did.
After a bit of investigation I discovered several of the new condo complexes would rent for as few as three months would furnish an apartment with all you needed...or so they stated. And was quite surprised when I arrived and discovered their promise was true. Complete down to the bed, tables, couch, towels, sheets, and kitchen items including silverware, dishes, pots, pans, an ironing board, vacuum and mop (which I'm sure will be pristine when he moves out...).
They had done a lovely job of putting everything you can imagine in place and everything was in some shade of tan or beige...very non-descript, but for the most part new or almost new...right down to the dish cloth in the kitchen. How handy is that! Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, kitchen, dining area and huge balcony for a little more than half of what a hotel cost! All I had to do was accent the decor with family photos, colorful pillows, and get a memory foam topper and some sheets for the bed that weren't made of sandpaper and walla! Home sweet home, for my hubby for a while.
So mid-week after most of my Costco-wallmart shopping was concluded I went to the condo management office and introduced myself to Shane, the young man at the desk and asked about the key to the hot-tub and pool areas. After jangling and fussing with a huge ring of keys he produced a key he stated would open not only the pools, but also the work-out, and kiddie play area. I was on my way back to the apartment and decided to see about the heat in the jacuzzi. Placing my new key into the lock, even without turning, the door pushed open into the child-safe enclosure and I put my hand in the warm water.
I didn't even flinch when I heard the door clang shut just as I turned to leave. I had the key right! Wrong! I tried my key on the inside of the locked door...no luck! Then reaching my hand through the gate to the outside lock, placed the key into that lock....nothing! I turned it so hard it started to bend so pulled it out before we were charged with them having to put in all new locks...and besides the darn thing just wouldn't fit. Hmmmm this was a flashback to just a few months ago. How could this be...the key had worked on the pool lock when I tried it, didn't it? It opened the jacuzzi door didn't it...? or did it?
"Help!", I called out, embarrassed with my situation. I was not very loud at first, then after a few minutes tried again and tossing dignity aside bellowed out, "Help! HELP!" Looking up and down the manicured lawns and past the fountain, I saw no one. Well, harrumph! I was not going to remain in that enclosure all day, and assuming no one would magically appear, as I had not seen one sole since I had arrived five days previously, and knew of no one I could call...oops...I didn't have my phone with me! Darn!
What to do? Kick down the door? I eyed the wrought iron with suspicion. It was very sturdy but doubted my legs were that good. It looked not easy to loosen, and the dead bold was clearly engaged. At the top of the iron enclosure were tall spikes, so climbing over those was out of the question! I was sure I would become impaled on one of them and die bleeding to death, with one of the menacing looking spikes stuck in my rear end.
Then it came to me...if the door to the filter area would open (it did!) I could roll the concrete cigarette ashtray/trash receptacle over there and climb up on the filter then onto the wall...sans-spikes and drop down onto the grass. Easy, piece of cake...Oh did I mention I'm past social security retirement age...Broken hips and snapped femur bones came to mind, but then I pushed that out of my head since my bone density last year was the thickness of a rhino.
I heaved and shoved and rolled the heavy stone receptacle through the gate and over to the filter...like a gazelle I was up on the fence...like a glove...all fit into place...however...it was still 9-10 feet to the ground and my ankle still hurt from a fall I took a few weeks ago at a hotel with a non marked drop-off...I should have sued!
But anyway once on the fence I noticed a small tree not too far from the wall...I shimmied over to be near the tree (good thing I'm not a little person-midget like my husband told all the guys at work, however that's better than at the last job where he told them I was a paraplegic...see previous entry about the youngest of five boys being an unrelenting tease) and then stretched out my nice-long-leg and with one foot on the tree I could reach out to the closest branch, hang on, walk down the trunk until I hung there like a stranded monkey and finally dropped down the last 3-4 feet to the grass. I had escaped.
Later when I told Patrick about the harrowing incident his response was, "Gosh I wish I was there with a camera!" How could I have hoped for anything less!!!
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