The Unthug

So today confirmed just how unthug I really was before the events of today. After accidentally locking myself out of my bedroom and thinking I could easily pick the lock, I realized that all movies that depict lock picking as an easy crime are misleading to say the least! “Not a problem!”, I thought as I found a spare Swiss army knife and hair pin. I mean seriously, I have watched every episode of MacGyver. LIARS!!! I have lost all faith in Richard Dean Anderson. The knife didn’t work, the hair pin didn’t work, and the banging on the door in frustration only left me with a strange cut on my elbow. There was blood literally smeared on the wall, it was disgusting. So what could be done? Mind you that all of my stuff (phone, computer, purse, etc.) were in my room, so I was stuck. I couldn’t even get to my phone book to contact possible thug connections, in hopes that they could walk me through the steps of picking a lock! Thankfully my mom remembered an old family friend that was a locksmith many moons ago. Very long story short, all of my brut strength and a butter knife pierced through part of the door jam, broke a nail and jimmied the lock open. How long do you think that took? 2 stinking hours of my life that I will never get back! But I am left with this realization; at 6 PM on August 5^th I was the unthug, but by 8PM I was confident that if the need should ever arise again, I was now thug enough to pick a lock.