I bought chips on my way home tonight, and entered the close with a nice warm newsprint-wrapped parcel and a sense of anticipation. At the top of the stairs I was unable to open my front door. How odd: the key just won't turn in the lock. Peering through the keyhole, I can see that part of the lock is out of line. I've no idea how that happened, but it is. I instantly get a vision of an evening spent phoning for locksmiths, waiting for locksmiths in the drizzle, paying locksmiths, explaining to the landlords what has happened...
Call me shallow-minded, but at this point I decide that I might as well eat my greasy food while it's hot. I do so, and very fine it is too. I then have "one last try" at the door, and it opens.
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