Friday, January 25, 2008

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I did an original sin. I poked a badger with a spoon.

Heidi and I break a lot of stuff in our apartment. There was the oven knob incident, and the garbage disposal (twice), my toilet, our refrigerator, various light bulbs, our recliner, several coffeemakers, the dryer, the time I threw a coaster at the wall, and, very recently, Heidi's closet door, the patio door blinds, and our kitchen light. The beauty of renting, however, is that the apartment complex had to pay to fix most of this.

With our history of breaking shit, I wasn't too surprised yesterday evening when I broke the front door. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Jennie, whatever, you did not break the front door." Well, shut up, yes I did. You see, for the past several weeks, Heidi and I have noticed that the lock on our front door was getting harder and harder to lock and unlock. So what did we do? We mostly ignored it. And when we weren't ignoring it, we complained about it. This was working well for us, you know, until yesterday.

So there I am, all tired from work and shivering on the front stoop, and I stuck my key in the hole, like I always do, but this time? When I tried to pull the key out? Part of the lock came with it. You know, the little cylinder part that has all the pins and crap in it? That little cylinder was just hanging there. A bit was still in the hole, but most was hanging out in the cold, cold, winter air.

"Hmm," I thought. "Perhaps I can shove it back in." So. I tried to shove it back in. Nothing.

"Hmm," I thought. "Perhaps I can simply turn the cylinder with the key and, even though it's not even connected to the door anymore, the door will unlock." So. I tried to turning the key. Nothing.

"Hmm," I thought. "Perhaps this is something I cannot fix myself and I should stop messing with it before I make it much, much worse and Heidi and I can never get back into the apartment and we have to live in an igloo next to the front porch." And so I got in my car and drove up to the apartment complex office.

Things were looking up as I walked into the office, for who should be working but Hot Guy Who Works In Our Apartment Complex Office (who I will now call . . . Bartleby). He is the one I have a tiny, baby, little crush on. Not in a real way, but in the junior high way where every time he talks to me, I start stuttering and my face gets red and I say stupid things. Well. Stupider than usual.

Bartleby: Hi, there. What can I do for you?
Me: I'm having a problem!
Bartleby: OK?
Me: I broke our front door and now the door won't unlock.
Bartleby: Um . . .
Me: Allow me to demonstrate.

And this is when I got my keys out and walked him over to the lock on his office door and imitated the whole lock coming out of the door while attached to my key thing.

Bartleby: Wow, I've never heard of that happening before.
Me: Super.
Bartleby: I'll call the maintenance guy.

While I waited, I was just going to sit in the lobby and read my book (after calling Heidi to tell her if she tried to go home, it would be a fruitless journey that would only end in tears and frustration), but Bartleby came out to talk to me! Yay!

Bartleby: Talk talk talk.
Me: Reply reply reply.
Bartleby: Ha ha ha!
Me: Ha ha ha! Oh, we are laughing!

And the whole time, I'm thinking, "Is he gay? I can't tell if he's gay. He seems sort of gay. It would totally be just my luck if he were gay," but then I said, "I hope I'm not keeping you," and he said, "No, I'm here til 6 anyway," and I said, "Oh, OK," and he said, "I really don't mind staying after 6, though," and I thought, "Score!" but then he said, "My fiance and I were just going to get some wings later anyway," and then I thought, "Fuuuuuuuuck you." True story.

So, apparently Bartleby and I are not meant to be. Unless he and his fiance break up, but it feels wrong to hope for such a thing. Luckily, Heidi and I still have Bernard and Sebastian, who may or may not be gay and who may or may not have another Hot Guy now living with them. New Hot Guy has glasses (heart) and a black car (irrelevant) and a purple lunchbox (um) and now all he needs is a name. And so I shall christen him . . . THADDEUS.

Oh, we eventually got back into our apartment. Like THAT'S the important part of the story. Sheesh.

_____

Today on The Collective, it's your turn to tell us our business.

18 comments:

  1. dude, this post was super dirty.

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  2. "Oh, we are laughing!" might have made me LOL.

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  3. Only you could break a door.

    Also, I wished/hoped for a married guy to get divorced once. And then he totally did. So it might be worth a shot on Bartleby.

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  4. kat! I guess it is. But it was completely unintentional.

    mg! now I feel bad because I totally stole that from Anchorman.

    Stephanie, but then I'd feel terrible for ruining someone's engagement with my magical thinking.

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  5. Wow you must have been coming on hard and strong. I don't drop the "fiance" bomb unless I feel like someone is really hot for my backside (or my frontside). Then I crush their dreams with that tiny little french word that echos - "I'm getting laid tonight for sure, you will have to look elsewhere"

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  6. Are you kidding? I wouldn't even know how to come on strong. Ask Heidi, I'm completely hopeless.

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  7. So... if he were gay, you might have a chance, but not if he's engaged?? I totally don't get that at all. I think you have more of a chance with an engaged guy because at least your competition in that event is just another woman, and you? Well, you rock the woman gig, so really, she doesn't stand a chance against YOU. Whereas if he's gay? Yeah. Well, you see where I'm going?

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  8. Well, I was thinking if he were gay, maybe he could become my BFF and help me pick out clothes and stuff.

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  9. But WE'RE your BFFs!! You can't have HIM become your BFF, even if he IS gay!!!

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  10. Have you seen my clothes? I need all the clothes-picking-out-help I can get.

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  11. wait, all of our clothes are the same. does this mean i need a gay BFF too?

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  12. Kat! no, I'm actually full of shit. I happen to like the way we dress.

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  13. Seriously, this kid has no game at all and sometimes, I'm sorry to say this, too many screen printed t-shirts.

    I'm sorry Jennie and Kat, but it's true. Stacy and Clinton told me so. So did Tim.

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  14. Your guys have good names.

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  15. don't you hate when guys insert crap like that? then you can't concentrate on what they're saying bc you're too distracted wondering if he said it on purpose to make sure you KNOW he's taken or if he was just being friendly and sharing his business.

    Did he say if his fiance was a he or a she?

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  16. Don't feel bad-- I should feel bad that I missed an Anchorman quote.

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  17. Heidi, I'd be offended, but it's all true.

    Srah, I'm afraid their real names are way less fun. I'm assuming. As I only know one of their real names.

    Katie, I know! Rude. Like I was going to be all, "oooh, congratulations on finding someone to marry you." Big deal. Anyone can get married. No offense, married people. Stop talking, Jennie.

    mg! You're right. You should be ashamed. Heh.

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  18. Jennie, I like your names better than the ones I give guys I date. Like this weekend I'm going out with a guy who my roommate and I currently call "Big Tooth". Now I'm going to be all paranoid and not be able to stop looking at the tooth and I will DIE if something gets stuck in it. Maybe I should stick to actual names.....

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