Not So Safe

This is a blog I wrote for MySpace but I'm bringing it over to add to my blog postings. Gotta get those numbers up!

Let me ask you a question: Do you know how much a locksmith costs? I don't know off the top of my head either. However, I did come precariously close to finding that answer out for myself. This incident took place last weekend. No, not as in yesterday, I mean the weekend before that. For those of you who still might be confused, let me give out date of these happenings. May 10th, 2008 (Saturday) around 7pmish. Hey, it's a word, look it up.
The girlfriend, Shannon, and I were running a few errands, doing a little shopping. She's a girl, she likes to do those things. I play the role of good boyfriend; I follow her around, huff, sigh and roll my eyes.
To move on in this story we must first go back a few hours. That Friday night we found out Stone Temple Pilots is coming to the Alamo City. Shannon was so excited we got up early the very next day and purchased the tickets the moment they went on sale. To save a couple of bucks, we opted to pick them up at a local Ticketmaster outlet, instead of mailing them or printing them for a fee.
Being the airheaded couple we are, we left to run those errands without the confirmation number that allowed the person behind the counter to find and print our STP passes.
After running around finishing our errands, we ran back by my apartment. I had the bright idea of taking the apartment key off my key ring and giving it to the girlfriend, so we wouldn't have to kill the engine (which I hear uses up 7 minutes of gas everytime)
So Shannon runs inside, grabs the confirmation number and comes back out handing me the key, or so she says.
We run to HEB, get the tickets, grab liquor from the nearby liquor store that's close to and not too far away from HEB were we grabbed the tickets.
Shannon and I get back to my apartment and I go looking for they key she gave me, only to not find it. Anywhere. We emptied the bags, searched our pockets, under the chairs, in her pockets again, even in the glove compartment. Nothing.
Trying to remain calm, we trace our steps back to the HEB to the ticket counter all over the parking lot and even to the nearby liquor store that's close to and not too far away from HEB were we grabbed the tickets. Again, Nothing.
So I call my apartment complex's answering service requesting some one to come out and open the door. Surprise, there is a $25 dollar charge to do so. Despite one of the employees lives the next building over. The 5 minutes of her time it would take for her to walk over to the office, get the back-up key, unlock my apartment, return the key and go back to her place is worth the $25 fee.
I agree to pay the fee, but they can't get ahold of the manager, so we had to wait.
After a minute or two of sitting around, Shannon's light bulb went off above her head, which let me tell you is brighter than most people's. She knows stuff. Running around my building she said "I have an idea."
i followed as she jumped my back railing and went straight to my sliding door.
"It's locked" I said in dispair. When suddenly the door slide open. She told me, all you have to do is jiggle the door and it opens. My rush of relief was followed by terror. Holy Crap, anyone could have jiggled that door and taken everything in my place! Needless to say now I have a 10,000LB security bar. It sucks I lost my key, but it was good because who knows who might have broken in.
Thanks sweetie for losing my key, I know you say it was me who lost it, but I know the truth. You lost my key to show me how vunerable my apartment was to thieves. Thank you for taking the fall.
Word to the wise, if you don't have a security bar for your sliding door, get one!