I learned how to break into front doors in college. I’m very irresponsible with keys. My mom will tell you. She told every one of my college roommates before she even introduced herself. “Hi, you must be (insert name of psychotic college roommate of choice). Stacey is very irresponsible with keys. Oh, I’m her mom. Nice to meet you.”
So the skill came in handy when I needed to break back into my dorm room after a shower, say, or when I’d left my
bag of pot books inside. I’d like to make it clear right now that I’ve never, ever used this skill for nefarious or otherwise illicit reasons. It’s only ever been used to break into my own residence – or the residence of someone who explicitly asked me to do it for them in a pinch – in an attempt to retrieve my (their) own things, or just to sit the eff down because I’m eight months pregnant and it’s god damned cold outside.
It’s never taken me more than ten minutes before. So to the following useless tools of B&E I’d like to say “blow me:”
- Stems of plastic flower arrangement
- Wires inside stems of plastic flower arrangement
- Various thicknesses of cardboard
- Zip tie
- Wreath hanger
- Shingle that blew off my roof
- Piece of extra thick sandpaper
- Errant chunk of siding
- Kid who sent my husband a box of Hot Wheels with postage fucking due, necessitating my leaving the house to go settle up with the mail carrier in the first place. You, sir, are the biggest tool of all!
Also, to the lid of the pint of strawberries in the garbage beside my door: Bless your clear little plastic heart. You may be the bane of the environmental movement, but you will forever be special to me. =)