Only one of these things will open a broken door

I like to think of myself as a resourceful girl.  After all, I’m ready should I be kidnapped or find myself in danger.  But I had to draw on all my other resources the other night when I found myself trapped in my bedroom.  It was all down to a dodgy handle.  Immediately I said, admittedly out loud to myself as I have a tendency to whilst in a stressful situation, “Don’t panic.”  I tried the handle again, it just turned round and round.  “OK, don’t panic.”  I had my phone, but realised the fact I’d spent the last hour playing Angry Birds had serious depleted the battery.  Bugger.  I remembered the charger was sat on the table … in my living room.  Immediately I fired off a text to my sister to see if she was up as a plan immediately formed in my head.  She could ask my Dad to ring first thing in the morning to talk me through how I could get out of this situation.  Dads always know what to do.  Apart from that one time when Dad didn’t think to leave a note when he’d used superglue on a hair slide of mine.  I picked it up and when I couldn’t separate my fingers, I walked into the kitchen and said, “Dad, when you fixed this for me did you use superglue?”  “Yes, why?”  “Leave a note Dad, ALWAYS leave a note,” as I showed him I was finally able to do the Vulcan sign from Star Trek, potentially permanently.

No sooner had this plan formed, I realised it was flawed for a number of reasons.

1) My family have a set of keys to my flat, however, my door was locked and the chain was on.  This would become a fire brigade job.  I’ll have to tell you another time about my last run in with the fire brigade.

2) I could switch my phone off to save the battery ready for my Dad’s call, but the only alarm clock I had was on my phone.

3) I wouldn’t be able to go to the loo, which was fine as I didn’t need the loo.  Or did I?  Oh no, the thought of not being able to get to the loo made me want the loo.  I needed to get out of this room.

I am very much a ‘just-in-case’ girl, and was convinced I’d have an alternative to a screwdriver in my room, so I emptied out every drawer.  I came up with some buttons, a badge with my name on (you never know when you might need one) and a Chinese fortune stick from a friend’s wedding.  MacGyver would have been proud.  Unfortunately no credit card to try the opening-a-door-with-the-swipe-of-a-card move.  During the search I found another phone charger.   Bingo.  As I’d not heard from my sister, I decided to pop a note on Facebook and Twitter in case anyone out there had tips to open the door.  My friends simply found it amusing I’d got myself into yet another scrape.  I tried the various implements I’d found.  Here’s a tip, buttons and Chinese fortune sticks don’t make great screwdrivers.  My resourcefulness was beginning to drain away and the panic I’d initially managed to keep at bay was creeping back up.  The name badge was all I had left.  It was small but I might just be able to do what I’d seen so many times on all the crime dramas I’ve watched over the years and try it in place of a credit card.  All those TV hours payed off handsomely as I managed to open the door.  I looked at the open door like I’d never seen one before.  I had opened that door.  RawGyver was in (and now had access to) the building.