Escape Rooms Are Overrated

You know, people are paying good money these days to get themselves trapped in a room and then problem-solve their way out.

I say save your money and come hang out with me for a few days.  I may not get you trapped in a room, but I sure as heck can get you locked out of a room.

Exhibit A

A few weeks back, my parents left for vacation two hours away.  I decided to leave a couple days later and meet them up at the lake.  I was at their house, packing some stuff up, and bounded down the garage steps to put some things in my car.  I came back up the steps, grabbed the knob to turn and nearly smacked my face on the door.  I was expecting the door to open.

It did not.

I had no phone, no keys, nothing.  Everything I needed was in that house, on the other side of that blasted locked door.  Fiddlesticks. I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do. Couldn't call anybody, and even if I could get ahold of my parents, they were two hours away. I could walk to the neighbors, which was over yonder, but even then, they don't have a key.  I searched all over the back of our barn for where I thought there was a spare key.  No luck.

And then I had this hazy, vague memory that my mother had hidden a key in the deep freezer.

The deep freezer.

So, here I am, practically falling headfirst into the freezer, rummaging my way around frozen pizzas and slabs of beef, hoping and praying and begging God that this key was where I thought it was.  I slide some trays over, shoved over some roasts - bingo. Praise Jesus, a key to the house. I practically froze my fingers off trying to find it, but hey - I have a key!  Off to vacation I went.

Exhibit B

Now, this next one required far more problem-solving skills than Exhibit A and took me 9 times longer to accomplish and happened less than two weeks later, but nevertheless, I eventually prevailed in my war with locked doors.

I found myself the last man standing at my office this past Monday evening.  The place was a ghost town. Lights were off across the building, all doors locked.  I was heading to Bible study straight from work, so I brought dinner with me.  I'm in the kitchen, heating up my food, when I have this very sudden and striking thought:

I just locked myself out of my office.

I went to confirm this unexpected thought, and indeed, the door was locked.  My phone, my car keys, everything I needed was on the other side of that blasted locked door.  And there was not a single phone in the entire building that wasn't behind a locked door.

My first thought was, "Well, that is indeed a bummer."

I decided to go back to the kitchen and finish my dinner while I pondered a possible solution to my unfortunate circumstances.  No sense in adding hangriness to the mix.

After I polished off dinner, I realized I could a) break the inset window pane on the door, b) go find a neighbor or someone walking their dog to see if I could borrow their phone, or c) double-check every building in the door and hope and pray that some very forgetful soul left their door unlocked.

I went with option C and praise Jesus, my co-worker left her door unlocked.  I nearly started crying.

I now had access to a phone, but the next problem was I had no immediate way of getting directly to a co-worker who had a key.  I started rummaging through desks in the hopes of a staff cell phone contact list somewhere. No luck.

I started with calling my mom, one of three phone numbers I have memorized.  "Oh, hey, Mom, just locked out of my office. You know, a day in the life of me here lately.  Do you have Jill's (my co-worker) phone number?" No. Okay, how 'bout our other mutual friend, Twyla, who might have Jill's number? Yes? Okay.

I call Twyla.  No answer.

She eventually calls me back, laughing, of course.  I call Jill.  No answer.  Meanwhile, I'm still rummaging through desks, hoping someone will have a phone number for the one woman I needed most, who lived closest to the office.  While I was hoping and praying Jill would call me back, I discovered a co-worker had left both his username and password to his computer out in a binder on his desk.  Praise Jesus yet again.

I log into his computer, thinking I can access my work email via the web-based version.

Oh wait. It requires two-step authentication.

Darn you, two-step authentication.  You're useless unless you have your phone.  Which I didn't.

So, now I was locked out of my office, locked out of my car and locked out of my own stinkin' work email account.

*Insert palm-to-forehead emoji*

Long story shorter, and after about 45 minutes of very rapid problem-solving that involved zero broken windows, Jill eventually called me back and came to my rescue with a key.

As I recounted my misadventures the following morning to my building manager, he says to me, "You're going to hate this when you find out where the spare key is."

I glare at him without him even telling me the answer because I could only imagine what he was about to reveal to me.

We walked down the hall and stopped about three feet away from my office door, the very same one that was nearly the bane of my existence 12 hours prior.  On the opposite side of the wall was a glass-enclosed fire extinguisher.  He turns the knob, opens the door, slides the extinguisher out of the way - and lo and behold.

A spare key.

My salvation was less than three feet away and I didn't even know it existed.

I wanted to smack him.

So, if you ever have a hankerin' to visit an escaped room, give me a call instead.

Pending you haven't locked your phone up behind a door somewhere, of course.