Our
accountant has an office in a two story building that also houses offices of
various other professionals. It’s a beautiful
building with an indoor waterfall and a few reflection ponds. Tall broad leaf plants reach to the top of
the second story. It gives the illusion
of being in a park rather than inside a man-made structure.
I’m
telling you this because we had a meeting with our accountant in that
particular building this past Friday at five 0’clock. An odd time to be sure, but because tax
season is in full swing he often works beyond the traditional five o’clock time
when other professionals go home to relax with their families.
Our
meeting lasted roughly an hour and at the conclusion he told us that exterior
door to the building would most likely be
locked. Not a problem he said, because
from the inside one only has to twist the lock to the right and it opens then
automatically locks again when the door falls shut.
We
gathered our tax support papers and took the elevator to the first floor
lobby. Enjoying the beautiful décor we
strolled to the door and indeed found it locked. Bruce, my husband, turned the dead bolt to
the right as instructed and gave the door a push. It remained locked. He twisted the bolt to the left and pushed
again. The door remained stubbornly locked.
With my
superior woman fortitude, I gave it a try.
First turning it to the right as instructed and then to the left. The lock would not budge. I noted there were three distinct clicks when
the bolt was turned so I tried each position.
The door obstinately remained locked.
At this
point I suggested that Bruce go back up to the accountant’s office to ask for
more specific instructions or some physical assistance. I heard his footfalls fade and then the I
heard the elevator door slide shut with a faint ding followed by a whir as it made its way up to the second story. I continued to fruitlessly turn the blot
left, then right, then left, and then right again.
From
somewhere on the opposite side of the building I thought I heard the soft
whoosh of a door closing followed by a very distinct “click.” Joy oh happy joy, someone else was on the first floor. I dashed though the maze of plants, fountains
and rounded the waterfall just in time to see our accountant exiting though
another door. That’s right, another
exterior door. Let me make this clear…
there was another exterior door. Who knew?
I called
out his name and ran toward that door. I
reached it just in time to see his red tail lights fading out of the back
parking lot… there was a back parking lot? who knew?
I tried
pushing on the door. It was locked. I tried turning the bolt to the right then to
the left. Sadly, It like the main front
door, remained securely in place. From
somewhere above me I faintly heard Bruce pounding on a door and yelling “Mike..Mike..are
you in there?”
Well, I
knew Mike wasn’t up there because he had just pulled out of the parking lot. The
question was how he got past Bruce. Then I turned around and saw a set of stair
that led up to the second floor.
Apparently Mike was descending the stairs while Bruce was going up in
the elevator. This building was a maze! No one told us about the stairs or the
second exterior door. Reluctantly and
with an ominous feeling I trudged up the stairs.
When I
reached the second floor It was obvious that no one was left up there except
Bruce. All the offices were dark. Only a couple of dim overhead lights remained
on in the corridor.
I
frantically told Bruce that Mike had just left through a back door that he
locked behind him and that we appeared to be the only two people left inside.
I’m
telling you that it is a rather odd feeling to be locked inside a two story
building on a Friday night with a full weekend ahead. If ever I wanted to own a cell phone this was
the time. The thought of spending three
nights inside a locked building sent a rush of total panic through me.
We were
hungry, stressed, and we both had to use the rest room. Regrettably we had walked past a restroom in
the accountant’s office, but neither of us could remember seeing a public one
anywhere in the building, but then we had missed the back door and back parking
lot as well.
We
checked every door on the second floor.
All locked, dark, or dimly lit inside and no sign of a public restroom anywhere.
We took the elevator back down to the
lobby and checked every office door on the first floor as well. They were all locked as well and no public
restroom.
Suddenly
a flash of cars headlights flooded in though the large glass front of the building’s
lobby. We ran to the door and pounded on
it as the car turned around and parked with its tail toward us. We pounded on the door and yelled to no
avail. We could see the dim green LED
glow of a cell phone in use inside the car.
Someone was apparently sitting there texting. From their angle and distance they couldn’t
see or hear us. After about ten minutes the car pulled away
and drove down the street.
Nearly an hour had passed since I saw
the accountant drive away, and we were getting desperate. We wandered aimlessly
throughout the building looking for security cameras or some sort of alarm
device that we could activate. We did
find a fire alarm, but we thought we should reserve that for a last ditch
effort to save ourselves. The thought of
all the paper work with fire officials was intimidating. We would do it though, if all else
failed. All else did seem to be failing
at the moment.
We considered breaking a window,
but there was nothing to break it with. The
benches were anchored in cement and the waterfalls rocks were mortared in
place. The potted plants were in
containers that were about the size of a refrigerator. There was absolutely nothing we could use.
In the
end we sulked on a bench for a bit and
tried to analyze our unbelievable predicament. Then it
happened… I caught sight of a person walking toward the building. We jumped up and rushed to the door and
tried to get the attention of an elderly man walking somewhat in our general
direction, then not in our general direction, then again in our general
direction. He was carrying several large
trash bags.
As he drew closer then turned and
walked away, then turned back again in our direction it became obvious he was a
homeless person. He appeared to be totally
disoriented, possibly drunk and talking or singing to himself. It was like watching a ball roll around in a
pinball machine. Off in one direction
then back in another Every time he turned toward us our hopes soared.
He finally got close
enough that we could see him fairly clearly.
We banged on the door and shouted for him to get help.
For what
seemed to be an eternity, he remained oblivious then something we were doing
seemed to catch his eye. He looked at us
from about eight feet away, grinned then turned in tight circles dancing and
singing. The plastic bags extended from his arms and
flew around him like fluttering wings of a bird as he turned.
From
time to time he would stop and look at us seeming seeing but not seeing then he
would start his silly twisting dance again.
Finally he set the bags down and walked toward the door. I told Bruce to grab a piece of our tax
papers and “Call 911” on it.
The man
came a bit closer and appeared to read the note. Maybe he thought we were going to call 911 if
he didn’t leave because he put up his hands in the universal sign of
resignation and backed away. He picked
up his bags and walked out of sight as we frantically pounded on the door and
yelled “Come back. Call 911”
For a
while we had hope that he understood and would tell someone about the two crazy people inside a dark building, but
as time passed we resigned ourselves to the fact that he most likely moved down
to the next alcove and was fast asleep in a drunken stupor thinking he had imagined
it all.
Isn’t
it silly what we do in desperation? As
time passed we took the elevator to the second floor again to double check the
already triple checked locked office doors.
We rattled each one hoping to maybe set off an alarm or by some miracle we
would alert a poor secretary still
salving away somewhere in a back office.
It helped pass the time, and made us feel like we were doing something
useful.
Returning
the main lobby we sat down on the bench again.
We tried to make light of our situation, but after a while the jovial bantering
began to wear on us and we sat in silence.
When a
large van pulled up in front of the building and the headlights shown directly
on us we just turned and stared numbly into the blinding light. When we heard the slide doors open then close
we jumped to our feet and ran toward the front door. We were completely blinded by the glare of
the lights, but we waved our hands and yelled “We are locked in…Help”
As silhouettes
moved back and forth in front of the headlights were able to discern the images
of what appeared to be two women and a man.
The man was on his cell phone and the women were headed back to the van.
I am sure they thought that two
people were ransacking the medical offices in the building looking for drugs. That is the first thing that would have come
to my mind if I were on the outside looking in.
The man
returned to the van and backed it up about twenty or so feet. At that point we were able to see the logo on
the side of the vehicle indicating it was a cleaning service.
Before long
additional help arrived …in the form of flashing red and blue lights on two
vehicles. From the cautionary actions of
the police our relief of being freed soon turned to thoughts of spending the
night, or maybe the rest of our lives, locked in jail. If you ever want to feel like a criminal
without really being one, I suggest you get locked in a building after closing
hours.
In time it all turned
out alright. Our appointment with the
accountant was verified and so was our ability to stupidly get ourselves locked
in a building. No fire alarms were
pulled, no medical offices broken into. Plain and simple it was obvious we were
Just two people caught like mice in a trap.
I’m
wondering if any of this could be written off as a tax deduction.
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