311) Feline-Induced Disconnect

(Image from LOLcats.)

Today, a humorous true story about my harrowing night.

I opened the two doors to my building at 3AM last night, and started climbing the three flights of stairs to my apartment. Around the bottom of the second flight, I began to hear steadying meow-ing from above. A skinny, grey cat sans collar was poking its head through the rails, looking down at me.

I made some of those high-pitched, cute animal sounds as I scooched past it in the hall, but otherwise didn't dwell. I'm much more of a dog person, and didn't like the idea of touching a stray right before bed. It followed me to my door, but I slipped inside and shut out the meow-ing.

I threw my stuff on my bed and changed into bedtime attire. All the while, the mewing continued, steadily and persistently outside my door. It started getting to me, because the next thing I know, I'm opening the door to put out a small dish of milk.

Do you ever have those split-second moments you wish you could take back? This was that moment. As soon as I crack the door open, the cat slips in and races past me into the apartment and under the couch. In my panic to keep whatever might be clinging to the cat out of my room, I turn and slam my bedroom door shut.

With the lock engaged. From the inside.

At this point, it's probably 4AM, and I have several problems on my hands, the weight of which is sinking in as I grip and jiggle the door handle in vain.
1) There's a feral cat in the apartment.
2) I have no access to my keys, phone, computer or wallet, as they're safely locked away in my room. I can't leave the building, or I'll get locked out.
3) My roommate is gone, presumably at her boyfriend's for the night and for most of tomorrow.

After half an hour on my knees, alternating between loving clucks and the most offensive of swear words, a can of tuna, a broom and a towel, I was able to get the cat out of the apartment. While the light in my room stayed cheerfully lit, I curled up on the couch and fell asleep.

With no cell phone, watch, computer, or properly programmed microwave around me, I woke up with no idea what time it was (BIZARRE). I turned on the TV, and the news informed me it was 9AM, too early to start knocking on neighbors' doors, especially on a holiday. I spent one hour reading a random book from my roommate's shelf, and the second hour watching Jerry Springer (we don't have cable) for the first time in years. (Random side note - Steve Wilkos, as in "STEVE! STEVE! STEVE!" has his own show now. It's the exact same format, except instead of passively blocking crazies from killing each other, he provides them with tough love.)

After several failed attempts at knocking on neighbors' doors, I heard the buzzer go off a couple floors below me. I flew down the stairs in time to catch a neighbor in a towel receiving a UPS delivery. He was nice enough to let me look up and contact a locksmith. Thirty minutes later, and I'm back in my room and down $60.

Being completely disconnected and trapped in the apartment for about 8 hours was simultaneously stressful and thought-provoking. It was such a juxtaposition from everyday life - it's so easy to take for granted all the things for which I use my phone and computer. At the same time, it made me think - what would I do if I was disconnected?