"Lookin' Out My Back Door"

So, bizarre story which reaffirms my faith in humanity of the day...

I, genius that I am, managed to lock myself out of my apartment again this evening when I left for work. This marks twice in less than a week, and that's just ridiculous. Last time, I was able to go to the apartment office, get the spare key from the apartment manager, and get into the apartment with limited hassle. Unfortunately, this time I happened to lock myself out after hours.

After hours lock-outs are a pain in the ass--you have to call Maintenance, and they send someone out to let you in. Then they charge your bursar account $50. A couple of $50 charges puts you in the right frame of mind to remember your keys every time real quick...or so you'd think. Apparently I've yet to learn my lesson.

Anyway, I call up Maintenace while I'm at work and arrange to have someone meet me when I get off at 9.00. The woman who answered my call at the Maintenace was also the woman who came out to let me in. She felt really sorry for me while she was filling out the necessary paperwork and all, and apologized for having to charge me and everything.

Well, I get back up into my apartment and barely have time to sit down before the phone rings. The person on the other end asks for 'Charles,' a sure sign that it's either something official or a telemarketer, because no one else calls me that. I reply that yes, that's me, and the girl (she's college-age, you can tell by her voice) says her name is Lindsay Bryan, and did I remember her? She says she graduated high school with me...and I apologize, saying no, I don't remember her, and I graduated seven years ago, so things are a bit dim.

At this point, she realizes that it wasn't me she graduated with, but my brother Clif. I describe him and his activities (how many people played soccer, ran cross-country, and played tuba in the band all at the same time? Exactly), and sure enough, that's who she thought I was (apparently, according to her, we look "exactly alike," something Clif would take a bit of exception with, but I digress).

Anyway, the whole point of her call was that, having recognized (or thinking she recognized) me, she and her mother decided not to charge me for letting me back into my apartment, even after the realization that I was not my brother.

It's just little things like that which really make me think there are still selfless and decent people in the world. They asked nothing in return, expected nothing, and merely acted because, as Lindsay said, her mother had said I was "having a bad day."

It's the little things, really.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: George Harrison, "I Live for You"