R.B. Winters
R.B. Winters
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How many times as a child is a person sent to their room? I can recall a few times off hand, but the times I’ve locked myself in seem to be more memorable.
I came home from Baltimore feeling better than when I had left. I brought a locking knob for my bedroom door. I figure that if people are going to break in I don’t want to make it any easier for them to get my belongings. I installed the knob, shutting the door to make sure it locked. PERFECTION! Or so I thought. I unlocked the door but it wouldn’t open. The piece that connects the door to the wall was stuck. A slight panic came over me. I only had a Philips screw driver, making it impossible to pop the lock.
I needed tools. I searched my room. I had a large green bottle that had a thick base. I used it as a hammer to get the hinges out. Paint was covering the hinges making this a difficult task, not to mention the feat of not shattering the bottle. I got the three pins out but the door wasn’t budging. Working the screwdriver in between the door and the frame I was able to get my fingers in enough to pull back. I should probably mention that I unscrewed the knob and it fell out onto the kitchen floor. Here is where I would grin innocently and turn a little red as I tell people this.
Our bedrooms doors are very strange. They aren’t solid wood; instead, they have frosted plastic-glass in the middle to dress them up. The flimsy door was creasing near the lock, giving me the impression that if I bent it back farther the door would end up in two pieces. New plan: I found an emergency roadside kit in my closet (from when I still drove a car). I used some zip-ties to get a grip on the hinges. I pulled back as hard as I could. The only thing that broke free were the ties, leaving me on the floor and the door in its frame.
After three hours I gave in and called my roomie. She was still at work and wasn’t planning to leave for several hours, not to mention it takes her two hours to get home. I told her to hurry if she could, but not to worry about me. I continued to work on the door, leaving an impressive number of gouges in the molding around it. I took a break, happy to have a television in my room. Sadly, I had the Republican Convention or 90210. I gave in and watched the Republicans for about twenty minutes before going back to mindless entertainment.
Nearing eight hours after locking myself in, my roomie arrived home. A swift kick to the door brought it down. I was finally free! I find the entire situation to be funny in the regard of how I’ve been feeling in my own life. I’ve felt so trapped and unable to control what’s been going on around me. It’s funny that I actually managed to end up in a physical situation of no control. I’ve been feeling much better as of late. Far better than I had when I got back from Baltimore, I almost wish I had locked myself in there sooner.