The $62 Frozen Dinner

A rare double-post tonight!

Tonight was one of those nights where I had to do the laundry if I wanted to have anything clean to wear tomorrow. So I went to the laundromat down the block and put my clothes in the washer, then came back home while the cycle was going.

It wasn't until after I had taken off my winter boots and jacket that I remembered I wanted to go to the corner store to get a particular style of chips. Since I was fairly warm and needed to cool off, I just went out with my walking shoes, my sweater, and a fleece hat.

The corner store didn't have the chips I wanted, because the delivery truck was delayed from the snowstorm. So I got a frozen dinner instead.

The price on the label was $1.99.

When I got back to my place, I realized that I had left my keys in my jacket. The jacket I wasn't wearing. Crap.

I rang the neighbour's doorbell to get him to let me in to the building, to no avail. Luckily, I did have my cell phone on me, so I tried calling the landlord. But between no answer at home and his office door not being cleared of snow for the last couple days, I concluded that he wasn't around. Crapcrapcrap.

After dropping my frozen dinner box into the snowed-over recycling bin by my front door (in this weather, I don't have to worry about it thawing!), I stepped in to the pizza place next door to "wait". What for, I don't quite recall, but maybe it was just so I could collect my thoughts.

Collect them I did, as I remembered that I had a load of laundry going. I headed to the laundromat to put my clothes into the dryer as I pondered further.

I remembered that I hadn't tried calling my landlord's cell phone. So I called it on a lark.

Success! He answered! He said it wouldn't bother him at all to come over to unlock my front door...only he's out of town. Out of town!

I had anticipated this, so I realized that my only reasonable option was to call a locksmith. So I did, and I waited next door for him to come. One interesting thing he asked me is if I had called another locksmith, as apparently some people call a bunch of them in hopes that one will come earlier than the others. This I had not done.

I waited.

And waited.

He did finally come, and it took him less than a minute to open my front door. As I got into my apartment (the door of which I had left unlocked for the "brief" trip to the corner store), I put on my jacket and asked him how much I owed him.

Sixty bucks.

Yowza! I was expecting $40 or so, but sixty? Oh, well. So I grabbed my wallet.

"You take VISA, right?"

"No, just cash."

Shucks, because all the cash I had on me was twenty five bucks and a bunch of laundry change. He was kind enough to drive me to the nearest bank machine, so I wouldn't have to pay the exorbitant charges for using a white-label machine. He couldn't drive me back, but that's fine, as I had my jacket (though no scarf or gloves...brrr).

I got inside, and put my frozen dinner into the microwave.

It didn't taste like it was worth $62, but I sure felt good when I finally got to eat it!

The $62 Frozen Dinner:

- RG>