Tale of the Lock, and It's a Shocker

The post is a little ahead of time this week--what, did Christmas come early? I guess you could say that, in a manner of speaking. I seem to be plagued with lock problems, not only when I travel (which is infrequent), but even in my very own home. Right now I'm sitting up with my door barricaded, waiting for daylight, with plans to have my lock changed tomorrow. Having lost my keys in Starbucks a couple of years ago and subsequently having every lock in my possession changed, I thought I was finished with  lock problems. Well, no.

Unfortunately, and strangely, I think my current problem stems from a professional event I attended a couple of years ago, a small gathering of librarians at someone's home. Actually, it was a Christmas party, probably nearly two years ago to the day. This wasn't a wild event, but actually rather sedate, or so I thought. I brought a cake, chatted, and ate some crackers and veggies. I couldn't help but notice when I went to get my coat and go home, though, that my purse was in a different place than I had left it, tucked well under my coat. It was sitting rather prominently on top of my coat when I got ready to leave, not at all where I had left it.

I had been concerned enough about the purse incident (and a missing cell phone, which I had thought was in my purse when I went to the party) to temporarily disable my cell phone service, call my credit card companies, and actually have one credit card replaced. I mentioned my concern that someone may have accessed my keys to the building manager but decided that I was possibly being too paranoid. After all, a group of librarians, right? (many of whom I knew). Maybe the coats just got rearranged as everyone was leaving. Maybe I had left my cell phone somewhere else prior to going to the party (it later showed up).

Sadly, rumor has reached me of shenanigans at that party (always trust your instincts). I even have names, and while it surprises me, it doesn't surprise me, in a way. Why was the vendor rep in attendance (who was never very friendly when I still worked at the law library) so surprisingly chatty that night? She asked a million questions about my dissertation and stuck to me like glue. I had trouble believing she was really that interested, but sometimes people do act differently at social events than they would at work. Why did the male librarian lurking in the bathroom look so strangely at me when I passed him on the way to get my things and go home? Why did the hostess make an arch remark about goings-on at her party (yet insist later that I must have dropped the cell phone before arriving at her house). My keys were in my purse, but how long does it take to run to a convenience store and have copies made? Plenty of time for someone to do it while one is distracted, that's for sure.

I'm used to strange goings-on, as life has definitely taken an odd turn over the last few years, but I was innocent enough to believe that I was safe at small holiday party with people I knew. The truth is, you're not safe anywhere.

My landlord has been notified both by voice mail and email that the lock needs to be changed ASAP. I will now ask those of you who are no doubt quite snug in your own homes whether there is any good outcome you can possibly think of to stealing someone's keys, either for them or for you. It's a crime, you know--and not a small one. It would make you an accessory if a bigger crime were to occur later, say, someone getting killed by an intruder who happened to have an unauthorized key. That's the kind of thing that can come back to haunt you in a big way (and undoubtedly will). What goes around, always comes around. It's just a fact of nature.

By the way, Merry Christmas . . . and don't let the screen door hit you on the way out. And remember, in a world where things like this take place, no one is safe. Not even you. Someone has been attempting to log into my account as I've been writing, which means that someone must also have my email password. That's funny, I'm always changing it, and it's a rather unwieldy one, not anything someone would be likely to guess. How did that happen, I wonder?