Up a Creek without a Doorcard

So I got locked out of my building today. It was particularly brutal, being a Friday afternoon and I just wanted to get inside and home. It hurt especially badly because Kelly was in the apartment, but I had conveniently chosen this day to be the first that I forget my phone at home.

I had my keys, and I had my wallet. What I was missing was the door card to let me into my building. I decided to wait for someone to come out. Ten minutes passed. I pretended to read to calm myself down. No one came.

I gave up and decided to walk towards the guards, getting my miming hands ready. I passed what looked like a 14-yr old boy presumably walking home, backpack slung over his shoulder. I thought, “He might be going into my building!” but I forced myself not to drastically pivot and scare the kid. I tried as best as I could to casually turn, although there’s really no easy way to make a 180 degree turn in direction without looking like a stalker…especially if you essentially, are intently watching the movements of another person. I tried to stay far enough away not to totally creep out the teenage boy (or lead him into a run) while still staying close enough that I would be able to catch the door if he opened it. After 20 yards of this, my hopes were rising higher and higher. That is, until he walked right past my front door and to the next building.

So I made another 180-pivot and decided to get help. There are some random businesses at the front of my complex, strewn in between deli-like convenience stores. Many of these are real-estate agencies. I walked into the room full of men in cubicles and identical suits, first just asking, “English? English?” They all shook their heads, talked to each other in Chinese, looked at me, then looked at each other again. One of them eventually jumped up and ran out of the office, chasing after a car half-way down the street. He managed to flag it down, opened the door and dragged out anther suit-man. The door slammed behind him and the car took off.

Apparently this man was the only one who knew some English. I did my best “cear cear” (thank you), and led the man to my building, happy to be able to explain my situation in mostly words. With his bi-lingual help, he was able to call the omni-guard (who apparently lives somewhere with the power to open any of our doors) and explain my situation.

When I finally got upstairs, 40 minutes after I had arrived in my complex, I was greeted with, “Late night at work, huh?”