Monday, June 1, 2009


I am somewhat irritated to report that The Pit was right about something security-related. I think everyone reading this can guess which side each respective participant supported during our on-going…discussions…about reasonable safety precautions versus crazy fantasies of home invasion.

Predictably, my beloved is of the opinion that our front door should remain locked while we are home. This way any passing hobos who decide to take a jaunt up to the third floor of our locked apartment building will be frustrated in their search for accessible toilet facilities. Perhaps also predictably, coming home from work has been a disappointing experience for Mike in this regard, as not once has it occurred to me to lock the door behind me after getting the mail.

Anyway, mysterious bolded A and another friend of The Pit’s from grad school, whose first name also frustratingly begins with A,* were at our house Saturday night. We had rented the first two episodes of True Blood, and were engrossed in the story line when an odd scrabbling noise at the front door distracted us. It went on and on, until I paused the DVD and The Pit went to investigate. When he opened the door, he found a clearly intoxicated and thoroughly surprised young man with a key that didn’t work in our lock. The dude mumbled something about having left some stuff of his in the apartment, and then wandered off confused. After much speculation on our part, it turned out he had mistaken our apartment for his lady friend’s next door. Presumably he eventually found the right place, since A and A bumped into him leaving the building with an armload of laundry later that night.

An experience like this would normally bring me nothing but joy, what with the excellent opportunities for neighborly conversation that now exist...but sadly the whole thing has been sullied by The Pit being proved right about the damn door. And not just proved right, but proved right in front of witnesses! To his credit, there was a minimum of gloating after the obligatory 'told you so,' although I'm sure this little encounter will be brought up the next time we do a tally of which one of us is right more often.** Thanks for nothing stupid drunk guy.

* Henceforth she will be mysterious italicized A.
** Recent disagreements while driving, mediated by Google upon our return home, include a discussion of whether tomatoes are acidic enough to cause indigestion (yes, score one for The Pit), and whether one can call a line of questioning 'invasive' (indeed, score one for me). Car rides with us are tons of fun!


  1. Jenya and I had similar issues when we first moved in. We probably had your argument verbatim. "Lock the door." "But I'm home." "What difference does that make?" etc etc. Jenya eventually prevailed primarily due to two factors:

    1. Ohmygod it's Oakland we're all going to die.
    2. Twice when we didn't lock the door it swung open of it's own volition, all creepy-like. The smell of pot and some kind of stew drifted in from the hallway for many minutes until one of us noticed the gaping door, and henceforth the door locking is observed with much vigor.

    On the other hand, you probably have less terrifying stew-loving neighbors, so I still stand by your flagrant disregard for your own safety.

  2. I actually never lock the door when I am home alone, unless it is night time. But I live in Irvine, so ...

  3. I say a guy with a key to an apartment in the building hardly counts as a random nor a particularly sketchy invasion. I mean, we all make mistakes as drunkards...