Breaking and Entering

I was eating my breakfast of toaster strudel and contemplating my collection of navel lint when the phone rang.

It was this bigshot attorney from downtown. (Mr brothter Larry). He needed my help on a big case. A promoninent socialite (my mother) had locked herself out, and the help was all away on leave. At one time the broad had given me a key to her place. Did I still have said key?

"I got a drawer full of keys, mouthpiece, what's it to you. You got a whole drawer full yourself."

"Allright, all right, mouthpiece, I'll see what I can do."

So I rounded up the keys, dusted off the Blue Bomb and hit the road for the better part of town. They were waiting in the mouthpieces fancy smancy wheels when I creaked and groaned to a stop outside the spacious residence.

"You got the keys?" the mouthpiece smarmed with an oily grin.

"Try these on for size" I replied.

They didn't work. The mouthpiece shot me a disgusted look, as if to say "Well what good are you anyway?"

I turned to the attorney and growled "You ever 'loid a lock, mouthpiece?"

He looked at me like I had spoken Swahili. I took that to be a no.

Going through my wallet, I decided that the gift card for Bahama Breeze was the right combination of rigidty and slipperiness.

I inserted it between the door jamb and the door, moved it in behind the latch, bumped the door, and voila' we were in.

This is a true story, more or less. The facts are true, if somewhat embellished for poetic reasons. It happened this morning. My mom locked herself out of the house, and I went down to help her and my brother out. Or in, as the case may be. And yes, I 'loided the door.

It was worth it all to see their faces when that door popped open. My moom was of course curious where I had acquired this skill.

"In a book, mom, in a book. I've always wanted to try doing it, just never had the opportunity."

My brother was still looking a little askance at me when he left, muttering about notifying the Locals of my newfound skill.