I was in Chandler Arizona for Spring break last year...visiting my travelling husband. This was before we bought our home in Gilbert.
Mid-week I went to the condo management office and introduced myself to 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. 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 soul 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 bolt 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.
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 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!" That's my sweetie. Not, are you okay, or wow how did you do that...no...he wanted to record my humiliation. How could I have hoped for anything less!!!
Mid-week I went to the condo management office and introduced myself to 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. 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 soul 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 bolt 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.
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 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!" That's my sweetie. Not, are you okay, or wow how did you do that...no...he wanted to record my humiliation. How could I have hoped for anything less!!!
