Locked Out

We're back! Sorry about the long hiatus. After hearing of my grandmother's passing, Matt and I decided it would be best for me to go home to be with my family for the funeral. It was good to be able to say goodbye to MawMaw and grieve with my family, although it was very hard to do it all without Matt. It was also great to meet my new baby nephew and spent time with family (pictures of that coming soon). Since I've been home, we've had quite a few adventures, one of which was getting locked out of our apartment for about 3 hours on Sunday. Have I got a story for you! (*Disclaimer: The following photos are reenactments of actual events that took place between 10:30 a.m. and 2 p.m. on August 31st. I would never subject you to pictures of me in my glasses, with bedhead, and without makeup) My flight plan coming home was from Houston to Amsterdam to Paris to Prague. We had to take the Amsterdam-Paris-Prague route to keep the cost down on my ticket. Anywho, I had approximately 45 minutes on the ground in Paris in which to deplane, clear customs and security, and find my new gate. Whew! I just knew by the time I slumped into my seat for the final leg of my journey that my two checked bags (that's bags, plural) were not going to make it on the plane with me. No big deal, though, I figured they'd put them on the next flight and I'd have them by late that night. Haha! Ho! Ha! My plane landed early in Prague and I waited for about 30 minutes while all the other passengers happily skipped off with their luggage only to find my hunch about my bags had been confirmed. I filed a claim, was told my bag would arrive in a few hours and finally hurried off to meet Matt on the other side of customs. After a happy reunion and a much-needed shower for me, I drifted off to blissfull sleep, wet hair and all, enjoying being horizontal for the first time in over 24 hours (my bags never came that night). I awoke the next morning at 7:45 (hello! jet-lagged!) to a Czech man on my phone, trying to tell me my bag (not bags) had arrived and they would be delivered in an hour. So much for church. Two and a half hours later, my phone rang again with a different Czech man telling me he was downstairs. Woohoo! Matt and I were in, um, casual clothes since we weren't going to church but we thought, what the hey, it's just the delivery man. Luckily, Matt had the presence of mind to slip on some tennis shoes (sans socks) and a ball cap. And here the adventure begins. I walked out of the door to call the elevator and Matt walked out after me and shut the door...just before he said, "Hey, you've got keys, right?" To our horror, both of us in our excitement about my bag (not bags) arriving had forgotten to grab a set of keys...or a phone...or a transportation pass...or a wallet. Ugh! We went downstairs, grabbed the bag (not bags), and came back up to brainstorm. You see, in the Prague, people don't exactly know their neighbors, much less give them a set of spare keys. Luckily, our company keeps a spare set for us in the office here in town. All we had to do was find someone who we knew could get into the office. Perfect! Sunday morning just so happened to be the one time every week where every single person with access to the office was in the same place: Church. Since Matt actually had a pair of real shoes on and can see without corrective lenses, we decided he would be the one to ride the metro (quite illegally, by the way, without a transportation pass) to the church to find someone who could get the keys for us and I would sit and guard my bag (not bags) - I was not about to leave that building with my glasses and no makeup on.



About, hmm, a billion years later he returned triumphantly with the spare set of keys.



He really did stick his hand out of the elevator like he was holding Excalibur or something.

What we didn't know, however, was that if you accidentally leave your keys in the door on the inside like this...



... no amount of keys will open the door from the outside. Only a locksmith will get you in. Brilliant.



Matt reenacting the failed attempt with the spare keys.

We tried to solicit help from our neighbor, who gladly showed us the number for a "nonstop" (24-hour) locksmith in the phone book. However, she could not provide us with a phone to call said locksmith. What?!? Our friend had given Matt money to buy a 75-minute transportation pass that was about to expire so our only option was for Matt to leave again and this time head to our friends' apartment to use their phone. Matt reached our friends' apartment, found a phone number, and called the locksmith, who didn't speak any English. He then called our other friend who has studied Czech for almost 2 years to make the call for us. The locksmith either couldn't or wouldn't understand what our friend was trying to tell him. Finally our friend called his Czech tutor and she got through to the locksmith. All the while, I had no idea what is going on or if Matt was ever coming back. So after sitting for another billion years like this...



...I heard the buzzer in our apartment sound. That meant someone downstairs was trying to get in. The locksmith!! He came up and about 30 seconds (and 950 Czech crowns/$55) later , he had our door open. Matt and our friend arrived just as the locksmith was leaving. Whew!!! What an adventure! We said many, many thanks to our friend for helping us through the ordeal and Matt finally took a much-needed shower.

**Since only one bag arrived Sunday morning we have spent the last three days on the phone with the airlines and are happy to announce that my second bag made it's appearance this evening (it was at Prague airport the whole time). Gotta love it!