LSB has countless talents to recommend him and among the many, is calmness in the face of austerity. Last Friday was an exception to the rule.
When I got home, I rang the bell of the main building hoping that he would be able to buzz me in from above.
But instead LSB, red-faced and brimming full of nervous energy, emerged from the stairwell and opened up himself.
I was confused.
“I thought you were locked in?” I said.
“No Katzi, I’m locked out.”
“Did you leave the key in the apartment?”
“… well then why don’t you just open the door?”
Silence of the kind before a bull charges.
I took the key from him. We went upstairs. I opened the door.
LSB employed a string of expletives.
Then, in a tone low and dangerous he said, “I’ve been trying for the last 40 minutes.”
Few things are more insulting than somebody making light of your misery.
I couldn’t help it; I laughed.
He glared at me.
“You just have to turn twice and then sort of tug the door towards you,” I said. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it clearer.”
“Let me try again.”
“Are you sure you’re in the right frame of mind?”
He snatched the key from me, shoved it in the lock, tugged and the door swung open.