Monday 28th August 2006

It’s a well known fact that locksmiths are rip off merchants at the best of times, but try getting one out on a bank holiday. I could have waited for tomorrow I suppose and asked to stay with a friend tonight, but I really wanted to be back in my flat and unpacked, showered, etc, and so today it was.

We agreed a fee for the call out charge and labour (roughly the national debt of Chad) but was told that if I needed a new lock that would cost more. Happily, he took a look at the locks and seemed to think that a new lock wouldn’t be necessary and so he set to work.

Sarah was with me and I made a bet with her on the quiet that he could get into the flat in under three minutes. I even started a timer on my watch. That’s what locksmiths do – they charge you the Earth and then only have to look at the door for it to swing open. You could give them a bank vault and they’d be through it like the white gloved hand of God in seconds. It’s their art.

At least that’s how most locksmiths operate. This one was slightly different. At the ten minute mark he was still trying to slide bits of card into the frame to deal with the Yale lock, and was having no luck with the bolted one half way down the door. This is when the drill came out. Then the pliers. It occurred to me, after about twenty minutes, that this lock was now buggered beyond repair.

“So, that lock’s ruined now. Will I need a new one?�

“Oh you’ll need a new lock now, yeah.�

I must look like some dappy blond woman or something because workmen always walk all over me with extra charges. I was annoyed that he’d started ruining my lock, thus bumping the price up fifty quid, without consulting me. And even now he wasn’t making any progress, using a screwdriver and a hammer to smash at it from various angles. A neighbour came out to see what was going on.

“Oh, hi. I’m locked out. Sorry about the noise.�

“Oh God. Nightmare. I’ve done that too. Shame you didn’t leave your skylight open. You could have climbed up through mine and gone along the roof to yours.�

The skylight…. By God! The skylight! I remember pulling it to before I left for Edinburgh, but not locking it. There’s no point in locking it, no-ones going to get up on that roof. It’s six stories up and slanting slate. My neighbour said that he didn’t recommend it because it was a very windy day, but as I watched this rubbish locksmith smash away at the door for another five minutes I got more agitated and knocked on the neighbour’s door. I went upstairs to his bedroom, climbed through his skylight onto the slate, and made my way along the roof to what I thought was my skylight (it was slightly ajar) but as I tried to pull it up, looked in to see it wasn’t my flat at all. Good job nobody was in the room and didn’t look up to see me trying to break in. They’d have screamed, I’d be started, and probably fall off the side of the building to my doom.

I made my way to the next skylight, which was mine. And it opened! I slipped inside the opening, and I was in! Like Bond or something! Ha-Ha!

I opened my front door from the inside to reveal the locksmith on his knees with more tools, and Sarah standing in the corridor.

“Yes, well.� Started the locksmith. “Ah, I see the problem. You’ve got a bolt lock here, you told me it was a latch.�

This was rubbish. He’d not got close to getting in. Now we had to sort out the fee for his non-entry. He argued that he’d come out, he’d done the labour, and so he wanted the full fee.

“But you didn’t get in! I got in!�

“But I would have got in.�

This I seriously doubted.

“But it’s nothing to do with me if you got up on the roof and your neighbour told you about the skylight. He wouldn’t have told you about the skylight unless I was here.�

Fair point. I was stupid for not considering the skylight, especially as I’ve had so many days to brood on it. But it still seemed wrong to charge me full extortionate fee for a job not done.

“And look at this lock, it’s ruined!�

“You’ll need a new lock, yeah.�

“So essentially, you didn’t open one lock, ruined the other, and didn’t get in.�

A bit of a debate started. It was eventually arranged that he’d get the full fee, but he’d fit a new lock for free. I can’t help but feel I’ve still come out of this badly. But at least I’m in.

And I stayed in, having a quiet night. Sometimes it’s nice to take your foot off the pedal. Indeed I fell asleep early in the evening and was woken up at nine by a storm and torrential rain. This torrential rain was inside the flat, because I’d not shut the skylight I’d entered from. Sometimes I think I should be in some sort of special facility.

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