The great lockout

I have a routine every morning when I leave my house and am on my way to work. There is a mailbox at one of the entrances/exits to my apartment complex where you can drop outgoing mail. So I do this almost every morning (it's usually my Netflix). This morning was no exception.

I put my car in park and hopped out. My door was half shut, half open. I got back to the car and tried to open but the door wouldn't budge. I expected all of the other doors to be locked except for my drivers door. I didn't purposely lock my driver's door and just hopped out for a second so why wasn't it letting me in? After rattling the door several times, I got that lump in my throat, my heart started beating really fast and I started to panic. Not only was my car running with the keys locked inside but so was my purse and my cell phone. I couldn't go back to my apartment and I couldn't call for help. My apartment office doesn't open until at least nine and some days it doesn't open at all (yes, I live in the land of no rhyme or reason). And worst of all? It's 13 degrees outside and I'm wearing a skirt. Yes, of all days to wear a skirt...which probably hasn't happened for months but I have a very important meeting today so I pulled out all stops with the black suit.

I thought long and hard about just busting out my window but then I realized that the possibility of that happening with my bare hands was slim to none. I started to walk away from the scene of the crime when a neighbor (ie, good samaritan) finally walked out of her apartment. I could barely talk with the lump still in my throat but asked if she had a cell phone I could use and explained my situation. She said yes and so I called the only number I could remember off the top of my head, our PR secretary. I explained the turmoil I was in and begged her to send a locksmith stat. I hung up and gave the phone back to my new best friend who said I could wait in her warm apartment while she went to work. I just felt too odd to wait by myself at a stranger's place (yes, even though we were best friends at this point) so I told her I'd be okay and sent her on her way to work.

I go back to my car and am practically kicking the door of my car and pacing around, shaking from the cold, when an older gentleman stops in front of my car. He's looking at me nervously. I thought for a minute he might be the locksmith but it was probably too soon. He rolls his window down and I knew he was going to ask if he could help me or maybe offer to let me sit in his nice warm truck while I wait. He reaches out his hand and says, "Can you put my mail in the mailbox for me?" You've got to be kidding me. I walk over to his truck, take his mail and return it to the mailbox. I ask him if he's got a phone and explain that I'm locked out of my car. He then asked me why I wasn't waiting inside some place warm. "Um, because my apartment keys are locked in my car," was about all I could manage at this point. And I'm still shaking. He hands me his cell phone and I call the secretary back who explains a locksmith should be there within ten minutes. I give the old guy his phone back and he still doesn't offer me to sit in his nice warm truck.

The locksmith finally arrives - hurray! He lets me sit in his van while I wait and he gets my car unlocked in no time. I still can't figure out why my driver's door locked on me when I jumped out. And now, even more than an hour and $55 later, I still haven't thawed out.