Today is the second time I have had to break into my apartment after locking myself out. I don’t know what part bothers me more—that this is the second time I have accidentally locked my keys inside my apartment, or that I have now found two very quick and easy ways to get through the locked door of my apartment. I can’t say I’m overly pleased about either development, considering I’m not a person with a great inclination to theft. For the record, the first time I had locked myself on my balcony near the restroom and got in using my belt, and the second time I used a card after locking my keys in the apartment this morning.

I suppose that such rogue-like skills would be among the least likely skills people would normally think of being in my possession, but the need to break into my apartments or homes has been present at at least three different periods in my life, and it is worthwhile to examine those now, as they provide an interesting tale of contrasts and how a person with little inclination to steal has acquired at least some rudimentary skills in getting through locked doors. And if I can do it, I imagine a lot of others with at least equal cleverness and far greater inclinations can do so as well.

The first time I ever realized I had any kind of skills in getting past locks was when I lived outside of Plant City, and where my brother and I would not infrequently get past the locks of the trailer where we lived, not for any nefarious purposes, but rather to get inside after we had accidentally been locked out. Apparently leaving keys behind is a somewhat absent-minded habit I inherit from other members of my family that are similarly not always aware of what they are doing. I am not surprised that I am the absent-minded professor type of person at any rate—it makes sense, all things considered.

The second time I had the great need of using breaking and entering skills came when I was a student in college. In my second year at the University of Southern California I roomed with a fellow who often locked me out of the room, and so to avoid having to call residential housing and waiting an hour and half for them to come and unlock the door to my dorm it became necessary to take more drastic measures. Needless to say, I did not end up rooming with him at all after that year. I do not appreciate people who lock me out of my dorm for hours while I am in the shower, or who bolt the door to the dorm so they can get a quickie with their girlfriend without even leaving a sock with some bookstore money on the door. Such is life in Southern California, I suppose.

And now here in Thailand I have again proven myself to be extremely absent minded when it comes to locked doors. Once I locked myself out of the bedroom in the teacher’s house without even locking the door (the door seems a bit defective), once I accidentally locked the door to the apartment from the balcony/restroom side, and the other time I locked the outside entrance to my apartment. And each time I managed to unlock the door via “pick lock” skills and open the door. Perhaps I have a bit more of the rogue in me than I would rather like, though I’m certainly glad I do not have the inclination to do so to any doors except my own.