A Box of Bisquick and Hertz Rental

For today's blog, we dip back to April 15th, 2003. One day prior, I was fulfilling my duties watching Phinneus (the feline equivalent of my neurotic persona) for Ben and Leah while they were at a film festival in Sonoma. I reported on my time there with the following e-mail.

"Hey y'all! I've been reporting about my adventures last eve and I thought you'd like a play-by-play since you were essential actors in the search and rescue campaign. So I copied an e-mail sent to the 'rents. I hope your landlord's efforts weren't too much of an inconvenience! I was so happy to see him drive up in the Hertz rental services truck!!! Thanks for putting in that very important call!

Hope your weekend was fabu and we'll have to hang soon, Joanne

My message about the adventures....

Okay, so I had a fabulous time in the city until the very very end when I made the unfortunate realization that, at Ben and Leah's house, you need a key to get out of the gate that lies between their front door and the outside world. A hard lesson was won: when I was leaving I accidently locked myeslf between the front door and the gate.

As the front door was shutting (all in slow motion in retrospect), I had this sudden panic in the back of my mind saying 'Don't let the door shut. Don't let the door shut. You do not have the keys to exit the gate. Stop the door.' But my body didn't act as quickly as my mind and the door closed. I quite suddenly found myself encaged in a 2ft-square space (okay, this is an exaggeration) with no promise of release from Leah and Ben for 6 hours or more [a full day, as I learn later].

My first approach to the problem was to try to take the gate door down using a combination of my copy card (which is now quite bent) and my shoelace (which is now quite greasy). I successfully removed the pins from the hinges using said equiptment, but could not open the door due to the sturdy lock on the opposite end. So I decided I was stuck and should settle in for a 6-hour stay.

After some thought, I figured that some time in the cage would be okay because:
(1) it wasn't raining
(2) I had, like, 3 layers of clothing with which to remain warm
(3) with an act of fortune, I brought my box of Bisquick - purchased for the previous night's dinner - and could feed off of the powder for at least 2 days
(4) I had a bottle of water too
(5) there was a pile of good reading that I had been avoiding for days, maybe weeks (time to GET IT DONE!).

But then I realized that I had only 1 hour of light left and no flashlight, let alone entertainment for the dark. Being imprisoned WOULD NOT DO! I resolved to scream for help...which amounted to asking everyone within earshot if they had a cell phone with which I could put in a call to Ben and Leah. (I should note here the wonder on the faces of people going by. Me in my zoo-like state, stuck behind iron bars with my bookbag and greasy shoelaces.) After several attempts I found a taker -or giver- and put in a humiliating call to B&L who immediately phoned the landlord who came to release me in a short 10 minutes.

So survival on Bisquick and water was, thankfully, not necessary and I got to return to my warm bed and funny roomate (who was quite bemused as I walked in the door because Ben had phoned just before my arrivel asking if I had 'been released').

Anyway, I thought you'd enjoy the story of my stupidity and eventual rescue. Life is looking good for me now. And I have a fabulous story to tell.

In other news, Phinny and I are good friends now. He, among other things, slept at my feet, sat in my lap, rolled around on the floor with me, and meowed at me with great pleasure. I think I'm in love.

Just happy to be free,
J.Po"

This event, I'll have you know, triggered the purchase of my first cellular telephone. The same one that was stolen. Coincidence that I blog about it now? I think not.