Volition

Yet another reason why I should not be at work so late.

Dateline: Tuesday, 19th August, 2315. Standing outside the office after a long day at work. Going home to get one last PBEM Civilisation 3 turn back to Jeremy and catch some shut-eye.

Earlier in the evening I had headed over to my Dad's house to pick up the hatch covers for his NS14, Smoke and Mirrors. I had previously handed the yacht over to the guy Dad had sold it to but forgot to give him the covers and he wanted to pick them up tomorrow. Being constrained for time, I decide to hop in his Subaru to head back to work. I get to work. I work. I decide to go home. So I walk downstairs, arm the alarm and walk outside.

So I'm standing outside the office at an unreasonable hour of the night. This is when I find I don't have my keys on me. This is a problem because not only can I not deadlock the front door of the office, but I can't get into my house. I try the usual tricks; jimmying the lock with a credit-card, using the front door's inability to close properly against it. Make a few phone calls, send a few text messages. Draw several blanks. The only thing I can think of is getting some wire through the frame to pull the door handle open. Where to find some?

I jump in the Subaru and head back home. Go to the 7-day down the road to find it closes at 2030 rather than at midnight. Nose around the laundromat for discarded coat-hangers. Go to the service-station and ask, "do you, uh, sell wire coat-hangers?" and get a very odd look. Was it the stubble? The mohawk? The black jacket? The I can't believe this is fucking well going on, I'm going to kill someone/myself look on my face? Who knows? In the end I head back to Dad's place, raid his wardrobe for a prized wire hangar. Return to the office for the third time today and proceed to open the door, assuming that a cop will drive past at any moment. None do, I get in, get my keys and go home.