Yep, I'm locked out. You may ask how I got locked out, and you may be wondering how I am writing this since I don't have the kind of phone to do so.

Well basically, just a short while ago I decided to do the simple task of taking the trash out. Being is that I was already for bed, I figured I'd slip my shoes and jacket on and tread out in the 20 degree weather and put a bag on the curb...not bad for 20 seconds work really.

Of course everything was fine until I got back to the door. Being one of those nice crappy screen doors, as soon as I opened it, the actual door created a vaccuum effect and shut itself. I also need to mention that the door is an absolute piece of shit in itself that it locks automatically, the only way for the door to remain open is to press a small strip from left to right on the back part, which enables it to remain locked or unlocked, when you insert a key when it's lock, it'll allow for the door to be opened, but automatically goes back into the locking position after the turn of the key.

So here I am...in my pajamas, in the dry dry cold air. I've lived with my dad for the last couple months since my apartment was too expensive to afford without a roommate and he had gone to bed not 10 minutes earlier. Despite this, he could not hear me knocking on the door or ringing the bell. He also lives on the 2nd floor of the house, on the opposite side of the door and also has sleep apnia...so he wears a nice noisy mask to drown out anything else.

I should also mention that my dad is a goddamn minister. So naturally, we live right next to a big goddamn church. As a safety precaution, I am aware of a secret key that my dad has hidden for his office that is accessable from outside. I immediately am able to get in, and the first thing I seek to do is call the house and wake his Holy Man ass up. I know for certain that he can't sleep through the loud fucking phone next to him.

So anyways, I decide to call...but I don't know the fucking number to the house! Seeing as I never call the house since I live there and if I ever do need to call my dad, I call his cell phone and not the house. Yes, I do have the house phone saved on my cell phone as a precaution, but my cell phone is at home sitting right next to my computer. And I would call his cell phone, but he charges it downstairs for some stupid reason (and he also seems to forget it anytime he leaves the house anyways!). So I know I'm screwed. Luckily, after scrounging I find a church directory and guess what? I find our house phone number! YAY!

Of course my victory is short lived. I dial the number and get the automated operator message telling me to "dial the area code and the number", which I fucking did in the first place. I try a few more times, but I can't dial out. The phone is an office phone and you need to dial out. I tried several different things but came up empty.

So now I need to locate another phone that doesn't dials out the regular way, you know...basically where you can pick up, dial and have it fucking work! So I'm searching around this dark church for a phone. Also, since I live in the middle of fucking nowhere...the imbred assholes who built this place put the light switches in some of the stupidest places. When you walk into a dark room, you think you'd find a switch right near it, you'd be wrong. So I got to walk around with one hand pressed against the wall and the other held out in front of me so I don't run into things...it's really fucking dark. In the process, I busted the top of my hand open real good and immediately stopped to find a bathroom that way I'm not bleeding all over the place.

After that, I locate my first phone. It's the same phone as in my dad's office! FUCK! I try the phone anyways, but get the same response. After searching the entire 1st floor, I head down to the basement. This is very reminisiant of Silent Hill...not knowing where the fuck I am or what I'm doing and losing blood. Good times. After getting downstairs and scaring the fuck out of myself by knocking over a broom, I locate another phone...same as before!!! I try anyways just to be sure...same fucking thing.

I head to back to the 1st floor and make my way up to the 2nd floor. I hit a light switch that lights the place up like it's fucking Christmas, I also pass by a very large basic window, which everyone can see me in if they were looking. I could only imagine what would happen, seeing as I don't go to church, most people don't know me here and it's 3 fucking am. Also what are the police going to think if someone called them? Here I am going room to room at 3 am with bloody fucking knuckles. I'm sure they'd get about 4 shots into me before I could explain myself. Anyways longstory short on the phone on the 2nd floor...no go.

So basically the only phone left is in my dad's secretary's office and that room is locked up better than vault in Ft. Knox. So here I sit, wondering what the fuck to do now...it'll sure be a long time before 10 am. Oh wait...my dad is taking a sick day (legit) and his secretary doesn't work Fridays....FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!

UPDATE:

Around 3 hours into my ordeal, I rummaged around the church and found a basketball (we have a hoop outside). I go back outside and bounce it off my dad's window and finally got his attention.

As far as how I posted this, my dad has a nice computer in his office. Sorry for not mentioning that before.

Also, 9 did not work. The magic number was 63!

Syd Lexia wrote:

That sucks. But if it makes you feel any better, we could market it as copypasta.

Sorry, I'm not familiar with that. Is that where you paste something over and over again?