imagine coming home from a nice, late-night walk with a friend, walking up three flights of stairs to your apartment, turning the knob, pushing ever so slightly on the door, then hearing that sound that only a dead bolt mocking you with it's locked-ness could make.
realizing you forgot your key, you begin to call your roommate. fourteen times. to no avail.
already feeling bad about potentially waking up your roommate from her slumber, you begin to knock on the door. lightly at first, hoping it will wake someone inside. realizing that you have the high probability of sleeping outside on this slightly frigid night, you begin violently knocking on the door to your apartment.
you discover that even if you were in your bed being mauled by a rabid poodle, your roommates would most likely not wake up.
this leads you to the hope and prayer that perhaps you left your car unlocked, so you could have a warm place to sleep tonight. nope, karma hates you.
you see the light on in your landlords' apartment, despite the late hour.
you knock on their door. he answer's. wide awake. you wonder what he was doing. then you get distracted from this train of thought when, without speaking to you, he leaves and returns with a key ring containing approximately 54651 keys. he hands you the set and you unlock your apartment.
you bid your friend farewell, who, without being asked, and with being prodded to leave, stayed with you throughout your late-night ordeal.
you enter your apartment quietly, as to allow your roommate the last semblance of sleep, only to hear her mumble, "hanging out is fun."
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