“Ughhhhh!” I'd wail, flopping onto the wicker chair on the porch.
Sometimes I’d (attempt to) climb through the front window. Other times I’d text my roommate about where she was. Sometimes I’d go back into my friends’ car and go to their house.
Once, I was so frustrated that I rattled the handle thinking it would somehow know me from a burglar and automatically open its doors, lovingly.
“GOD...EFFING...D…!!!!” I yelled.
More frustrating than that, though, is being locked INSIDE an apartment whose doors are also not opening lovingly for you.
Did I say frustrating? I mean nightmare.
This happened to my friend Michelle last week, all thanks to the DUMB GUY she was dating.
Mark, the dumb guy, had just moved into an apartment in a hipster part of town (“got to move in a week early! Yea!”) but it was a shithole. He and Michelle dated for several months and they would often stay over at her comfortable non-shithole.
For some reason, Mark wanted Michelle to sleep at his new place the very night he got the key, with no furniture and no toothpaste. Ugh.
She frowned. She wanted her place. And his was freezing. But as it got late, she said OK, fine, I’ll stay and they were actually having a nice time until Marc got a call from his friend asking to meet him at a bar.
The guy’s girlfriend had just dumped him and he was a mess. Michelle saw an opportunity.
“Why don’t I go home and you can come to my house afterwards because I live closer to the bar you need to go to,’” she offered.
And even though this was her SECOND verbal hesitation about staying over, Marc ignored it.
He said he really wanted to get comfortable staying at his new place; actually, he wanted BOTH of them to get comfortable at his new place so he told her to stay, that he’d be back in an hour.
Since they were newly dating, she wanted to be chill and all, so she told him goodnight and he left and locked the door.
The next thing she remembers is waking up with a start, as so happens when sleeping in a new place…alone….and she looked at the clock. Marc had been gone for FOUR hours.
Michelle called. No answer. Called again. Texted. Texted. Did he forget about her?? Was he in jail???
His phone didn’t go straight to voicemail and she saw that the texts she sent him were being marked as “delivered,” which was even more infuriating.
So she decided to get dressed and drive home. She had work the next day and it was 3:30 in the morning.
That’s when she realized that the door was locked, and the only key was in his pocket. Michelle looked around the apartment for the first time from an escapee's point-of-view.
Security bars on all the windows. No key for the back door. She was trapped!!! Inside!!! It was a total nightmare.
And…HELLO! FIRE HAZARD!
I, personally, would not do very well in that situation considering how I felt about those Chilean miners a few years ago. I’d crack. I'd be so livid.
(P.S. WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO THEM?? WHAT HAPPENED TO THEIR MOVIE DEAL???)
Anyway. Back to Michelle.
She called and texted Marc again with the news that uh, she couldn’t leave his apartment, PLEASE CALL PLEASE COME BACK, but still nothing in reply. She then became very aware that it wasn’t a good neighborhood.
Crying and panicky, she stayed awake on alert plotting an emergency escape.
How early was too early to call Pop-a-Lock?? Wait, does Pop-a-Lock free girlfriends from their boyfriend’s apartments??
She thought of calling the cops if he wasn’t home by the time she had to get up and go to work. Worst day of work ever when you spend the entire night awake on alert.
At 5:30 in the morning, Marc stumbled in, wasted. No apology.
No, he said he didn’t see her 34 phone calls or 15 text messages. He didn’t care about her state of mind.
Instead of, "I'm so sorry I scared you so bad, how about some pancakes???" he just said, "Let's just go to sleep" and dismissed her suffering.
Then, he said, OMG: “I really want to get comfortable staying here.”
That was the absolute last thing Michelle felt in his prison house.
On the bright side, after promptly leaving when she saw the open door, walking into her own place with her own key was the most satisfying feeling ever.
And then, after Marc refused to acknowledge ANY wrongdoing on his part: "I don't know why you wake up so often at night! You should have just gone back to sleep!" (UGH), dumping him was equally as satisfying.