When you last glimpsed into MolliWorld, it was stinky. Yesterday, after being traumatized by the infamous dog poop incident (read my earlier post), I decided that it was time to leave the house. After all, I'd been inside and all alone for several days due to our recent weather event.
I put on very warm clothes and ventured out. I ran several erands and was very pleased with myself for accomplishing a few things that I thought needed doing.
Next stop was my storage unit to I could get my plastic tubs so I could pack up my Christmas decorations. Sounds easy, right?
Ha! The office of the facility had some sprinkler damage. Also, they had changed the codes to get into the gate since the last time I was there. I found the manager who told me how to get in. No problem.
I got my plastic tubs in short order and thought I was way ahead of the game.
BOY! WAS I MISTAKEN!
I drove my trusty Jeep back around to the gate, which I had been assured would open automatically when I drove up to it. No code required. There is a sensor that makes it open right up.
Seems the electricty problems inside the office were also problematic outside. I like to pride myself in being calm and level headed in a crisis. That is part of the secret to my clever masquerade of being a responible adult.
NOT THIS TIME!
I pulled out my handy-dandy iPhone and looked through my contacts to see if I have the storage facility office listed.
I pulled up the internet to see if I could Google it and get a phone number.
NOPE! NOT LISTED!
Feeling more and more panicked...because I was locked in behind a gate and it was freezing cold...I called 411 and told the automated attendant the name of the storage. And yes, please, I wanted to be connected. Think I got the right place?
Say it with me now...NO!
I hung up from the lady at some storage facility (not mine) who assured me that her gates were all open and I was calling the wrong place. I quickly called 411 directory assistance-again-and asked to speak to an operator. She gave me the number. Whew! I was almost out of the gate.
Seems the problem with the sprinkler that froze and then emptied all over everything took out the phones, as well. I began toying with the thought of calling 911. This was becoming an emergency to me! Good Idea?
I honked my horn, drove around hoping to find someone else in the area and finally called my Knight in Shining Armour, the Princely Rocket Man. Problem is, he's in Florida and was having his own bad day. He stayed on the line with me offering suggestions, like reach through the gate and punch in the code and then go get back in the Jeep and drive out.
I DON'T THINK SO!
The box with the keypad is about 8 feet away from the gate, and my arms are short enough to probably have me offically declared deformed.
Having a bad day here!
Finally, just as I was about to crawl out of my skin, a car drove up on the other side. The nice man punched the code onto the keypad. Do you think the gate opened?
Mr. Nice Man had to get out of his car and manually open the gate, which you can do from the other side...once the code is entered into the keypad.
I don't know who that lovely man was, but God Bless Him. He saved my life. I was breaking out in a cold sweat, which could be harmful on such a cold day. I made a beeline for the office and told them the sad story of Poor, Poor Molli being locked behind the gate. Think they were worried, concerned or aghast?
My heart is already beating a little faster to think that the packed up decorations have to go back to storage.
Anyone want to go with me and stay on the OTHER side of the gate, just in case?