Thursday, October 07, 2010


Today I made a couple of sales, had several Important Business Conversations, and was feeling pretty damn professional until the part where I got home and realised I didn't have my key, and was going to have to climb in through the window. For those of you unfamiliar with my break-and-enter routine (not my family or the neighbours, I forget my key a lot), this is how it goes:

First you line up the rubbish bins in order of height and hop from one to the other, trying not to put your full weight on any of them because they are flimsy and you are not, in an attempt to reach the window ledge. After denting a bin lid and falling into a plant, you remember that in the garage there is a ladder!

Much carting of ladders follows. Ladder-carting is something of an art. Not, however, an art that I have perfected. I have, however, perfected the art of Hitting Things With A Ladder. The ladder will hit at least three of the following: house, car, side of garage, BBQ, gate, fence, dog, self. Usually self.

You prop the ladder against the house, then get halfway up the ladder and throw your handbag into the house. As the handbag sails into the hallway you realise this was really clever, because now if you fall off the half-assedly-propped ladder and break yourself there will not be any calling of the emergency services as cellphone was in the handbag. Instantly become more concerned about half-assed-ladder-propping and possibly say a small prayer.

And then you shakily reach the top rung of the ladder, grip the windowsill, push off the ladder with all your might, and propel yourself into the bathroom!

Except that you get stuck.

And then you're left dangling there, half in, half out, like some kind of Pooh Bear in heels with your arse caught on the windowsill, waving your legs in the air like a beetle while trying to find a ladder rung to boost yourself through on, thrashing about and dangerously close to bonking your head on a tap from sheer excitement - and then eventually you manage to get enough of yourself through the window that gravity does the rest and you almost fall in the toilet but it doesn't matter because you're INSIDE!

The moral of the story is that I'm going to start stapling my key to my face in the mornings. And also that I would be a really crappy burglar.


Anonymous said...

When I was younger and lived in an apartment building in Sydney, I used to have to do this really dodgy-looking scramble up our downstairs neighbour's air conditioning apparatus thingy, before flailing over the balcony (usually in my school uniform skirt) jimmying open a window. It was all very glamorous. These days, I can just climb gracefully (comparatively) through my bathroom window (ground level!) into the bath. Indeed.

I should like to see your routine. I'd bring a boom box and popcorn.

slommler said...

Ha!! The visuals were priceless!! Love the arse hanging out with legs flailing!!!
Me? I use small children and encourage them to go through small openings and coax them to the door. Works most of the time!!

mcm said...

there are these fabulous hideakeys things- no not the rocks. they are like a combination lock that has a compartment. if you enter the combination, the compartment opens and then you retrieve the spare key tucked inside. not for the foggy minded.

a cat of impossible colour said...

I have become stuck in a window before while trying to break into my own house. It was raining really hard and I was drunk. It did not go well.