It is said that no good deed goes unpunished. There may be some truth to that....
My next door neighbor is a lovely woman - Ms. V, a few years retired from the UN. She spends her winters in her home country, Malaysia. I collect her mail - in return, I get the catalogs that will be outdated by the time she returns in spring, and her print versions of The New Yorker and of The Economist, which she accesses online while she is abroad. And I water her one houseplant (she is a minimalist, at least as compared to me) - it is a coddled evergreen of some variety (it gets a constant stream of Miracle Gro: she is also apparently not yet a convert to organic gardening); in return, I get a little escape from my messy abode, overtaken by Sissy's styling props, and Sissy herself, and from the ten or so permanent botanic residents and the, now, four or so seasonally resident ones, and to satiate my New York City-typical nosiness about real estate and how other folks live, to indulge in my fantasy of alternate spaces.
So, having not tended to the mail or the poor plant in over a week, today was the day, before work - a quick little errand, or so I thought. And particularly as she was to have a guest, the first of two back to back guests, arrive this evening. Best to get the mail over to her place (and out of mine), and to ensure the plant was hydrated, lest it go the next week or so whilst the guests are here feeling neglected.
In leggings and a light sweatshirt, downstairs I went for the mail, and picked up mine at the same time. Ran into an 11th floor neighbor bundled up and on her way out to walk her small/medium dog, Bailey (notably sans coat, on this very, very frigid day - she had forgotten, and was reminded when I commented on the low outside temperature, and then apologized aloud to Bailey for the omission). Back upstairs, and I let myself into Ms. V's apartment with the spare set of keys, closed the door, as I had done many times before. Went to water the coddled evergreen to allow the water to make its way through while I sorted the mail. Returned to sort mail, realized that Ms. V's prior guest had left a note for me and Sissy on the dining table that I had never read; had just assumed it was for Ms. V. Added the new mail to the mail collecting in the bag I had left there, noting that a new bag will be needed soon to contain the mail yet to come. Went back to check coddled evergreen, gave it a bit more water, saw the excess trickle out the catch dish at the bottom. Meandered over to the window to check how the outdoor plants looked - dead - including the cardinal vine I had surreptitiously planted two years prior, and the cheap trellis of bamboo canes I had made for it to climb; the vine now comes back yearly. And then I got ready to grab my mail and head out, to shower, to head into the office for my 10:15 conference call.
But the knob of the front door turned only a smidge, and I could not get out. I tugged, tugged some more. A prior guest had at one point complained of difficulty with the knob. Last year it was the opposite problem - the knob spun and spun, having been practically stripped, it felt like. Now it barely turned at all. Ok, well, I got in - just needed someone on the other side to help with this; perhaps the super. But, alas, I had not thought to bring my phone. Despite Sissy's many admonishments to always carry my phone (she once got stuck in the elevator of her friend's building, and only saved herself by calling her friend, who got her super and the elevator mechanic). But I tend not to carry mine, because my reception is so poor in the central common area, so what would be the point in the elevator. Well, there I was in Ms. V's apartment, trapped, with no phone. And had I brought it, it was close to zero battery when I left. Not so good. No way to call for help, to tell the boss I would run late for the conference call.... But I spied Ms. V's landline - and thought I'd dial Sissy (who had left for a job) to call the temporary super. I got the phone and dialed - Ms. V had temporarily shut off the line, but the recorded operator told me I could hang up and make emergency calls. Great.
Next move, I went out to the terrace to call next door in hopes my caddy-corner neighbor, Mr. B, would be around. He had mentioned recently working from home more often. My calls went to no avail. Back in, and to the door - would a porter come by to take the recycling? No. Back out, called again to Mr. B, to no avail. Called down to the eleventh floor neighbors, to no avail. Looked over the railing in hopes Bailey and his human mom might come back - nope. Considered starting to call to random strangers on the sidewalk, but had some concern they might think me crazy. Hoped to spy someone entering the building, or a building staff member working downstairs - but it wasn't trash day, and far too frigid to have to water the plant beds out front. Somehow, in my leggings and light hoodie, I managed to not freeze during all this time on Ms. V's front terrace, and thanked my lucky stars I had put on a semi-presentable outfit and had the foresight at least to throw on a hoodie, even if light.
Well, I started to contemplate whether I should make an apologetic 911 call and explain that, after all, it wasn't a true emergency, only that I was TRAPPED in my neighbor's apartment and could not get out. At the very least, I could retreat indoors and would not freeze to death - thank goodness for that. But I was not quite ready to engage the emergency response dispatchers. Went back to the door.
And then I heard some hallway noises! And the distinct sound of keys or a lock. Who was it? Were they coming or going? Was it Mr. B, who might still hear me, being in the apartment next to Ms. V, or Ms. S, who was caddy corner to Ms. V and might NOT hear me, even if she was inside. Oh, who was it? I banged on the door from the inside. No response. I ran back out to the front terrace and began calling Mr. B's name again, and again, peering around the fence separating Ms. V's terrace from Mr. B's... and then Mr. B's terrace door opened and out he came!
Well, he tried the door, to no avail. I slid keys underneath, and, finally, he was able to spring the lock and open the door. He suggested we re-set the springs to the non-auto-lock option, and the knob turned just enough to open the door when it wasn't set to auto-lock. So then we were able to go about our days, and this evening I warned the first get not to re-set the pins, and to keep my and Sissy's cell numbers close at hand - just in case.
Takeaways - must learn to carry phone everywhere. Sissy is always complaining that I am unreachable out on the terrace. I just get carried away doing what I love, and assume I will hear the landline ring. But no more - phone always, or some device.
So there you have it - how watering a coddled evergreen led to my almost-entrapment and fortunate rescue. Complete with happy ending :). No photos, though. Sorry. Some other time, I will share the story of a different entrapment, on a different terrace, years ago.
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