A Cold Night in Florida

So, you remember all those nice things I wrote about Buster yesterday? Well, he exacted revenge upon me yesterday afternoon.
To set the scene, it's been uncharacteristically cold this week in sunny Florida, with temperatures dropping nightly into the twenties, with wind chills in the teens. Those of us who have lived our entire lives here are accustomed to temperatures in the 90's during the summer, and perhaps the 50's and 60's in the winter. We have thin blood. We are wimps. We own shorts and flip-flops and tank tops, not parkas and mittens and scarves. Thus we are not equipped, prepared, nor even willing to endure these arctic blasts.
Regardless, I have dogs who expect to be walked, and one who expects to be exercised on a daily basis, regardless of my obvious discomfort outdoors.
My wonderful boyfriend Buster, star of yesterday's blog post, attends ITT Tech. He is in his last semester of classes in fact, and has been very busy with homework and projects, in addition to his highly demanding job day job. Yesterday was a particularly stressful day for him, and when I came home from work he was rushing to finish some last minute assignment before leaving to go to class. He greeted me with an air of distraction, which I thought highly understandable, and continued to finish his paper. I changed out of my work clothes and into some pathetically thin sweat pants and a sweatshirt which is adequate at best in 60 degree weather. On top of that went my newly acquired North Face jacket, a Christmas gift from Buster which is thankfully very warm. The ensemble was completed with a pair of sneakers and a cheap pair of mittens from Target (the kind that are 2 for $1 in the sale bin). I grabbed Xander's frisbee with the intention of tossing him a few in the field behind our apartment complex. Just long enough to let him stretch his legs and take the edge of the worst of his excessive energy. I kissed Buster goodbye, wished him a good class, and headed out the door with my dog, his frisbee, and the clothes on my back.
Less than twenty minutes later, with Xander panting happily and my ears, fingers, and toes completely numb with cold, I walked back to our apartment. Given that it was now past six, Buster's car was gone from the parking lot as he had no doubt recently left for class. I trotted up to the door, thoughts of a warm apartment and snuggling on the couch under a heavy blanket in my mind. I turned the handle, but the door did not open.
Locked.
Xander looked up at me expectantly, and several thoughts went through my mind. Firstly, it is incredibly cold and I am trapped outside. Buster will not be home from class until almost 10pm. I have no phone, no car keys, and the office is already closed. I also have my dog with me. First thing's first, check the car. It's unlocked! Hooray! One small miracle. Xander happily hops into the back as if we are playing a silly game. I rummage through the glove compartment and try desperately to remember if I placed a spare car key in there. No such luck. My spare key is in my purse which is locked in the house with my regular keys. And my phone. And my blanket.
Well, at least Xander has somewhere to stay out of the cold wind while I figure this out. My next thought is of our friends Mike and Ashley who live a few buildings over. Mike would be in class with Buster that night, but Ashley might be home, and I could use her phone to call Buster! I run over to their building and up the three flights of stairs. Seriously, they CHOSE to live on the 3rd floor. Like, on purpose. Who does this? Huffing and puffing, I knock on the door. I ring the doorbell. I call out "ASHLEY!!", because I know I wouldn't answer the door to someones crazed pounding if I were home alone. No answer.
OK, so she isn't home. What now?
I used to fancy myself quite good at breaking and entering without causing any permanent damage, and have found my way through bedroom or bathroom windows at almost every place I've resided in the past. I decided to attack our one and only window to the apartment, which thankfully I am mostly sure is unlocked. After 15 minutes of clawing frantically at the screen, using some crude tools from my car, and no doubt looking like a burglar in my black jacket and pants, I concede defeat. Unless you took a knife to that screen, it's not coming out. This gives me comfort that only someone who was really intent to "break in" would be successful, while I would be left out in the cold, so to speak. Or literally in this case.
OK, maybe Ashley is home now! I run back over to their building and repeat the above steps. Again, nobody is home. Sigh.
Our apartment office staff had no doubt all gone home a long time prior, but there is a gym and a cyber cafe. Surely there is a phone, or at least a computer I can use to get Buster a message! The problem is, that after running up to the office at the front of the complex, the doors are locked. Guess what you need to get into the gym and cyber cafe after hours?
I knock on the door. Perhaps someone in the gym will hear me and let me in! After several minutes of pounding on the door, a guy steps out of the gym to use the water fountain in the hallway. I wave frantically and try my best to look distressed and not dangerously insane. It must have succeeded, because he let me in! I briefly update him to my situation, which he replies simply "Oh, I hope you get him back for that." He returns to the gym, and I approach the cafe. Also locked. A couple of girls are in there using the only two computers, so I bang on the door and apply the same frantic, not-criminally-insane waving at the door handle. The closer of the two begrudgingly rises to open the door, and immediately returns to the computer. I look around the room for a phone. Of course there is no phone. People don't use phones anymore. We all use cell phones, with all our important contacts stored safely away, eliminating the need to memorize them so that when you find yourself without it, you have no clue as to what any one's number is. I was actually 90% sure I remembered Buster's number, but was afraid he would not answer a strange number if I called from someones phone. I waited a few moments to see if either girl would respect the time limit policy on the computers. When it became clear they would not, I decided to beg. I approached the same girl who'd let me in and asked if I could use it to send a brief message, as I was locked out with no means of communication. Again, she looked at me with an air of disgust and shifted over to another chair. I quickly sent a barrage of emails and Facebook posts designed to catch his attention in every conceivable way. I did not sugar coat my request.
"EMERGENCY" "You have LOCKED me out of the apartment with no keys and no phone. COME home immediately!!"
Satisfied that if he had his phone with him (saying a silent and desperate prayer to that effect), he would surely get my message and come home.Thusly, I returned to the car where Xander was waiting patiently. Minutes passed as I attempted to formulate another plan, in case Buster had not seen my messages for whatever reason.
Finally his car whips around the corner and into the parking lot. He rushes over to me as I calmly exit the vehicle and retrieve Xander from the back.
"Your mom is gonna kill me Xander," he says to the dog who is happily greeting him.
I didn't kill him.
In the future, however, no matter how brief the outing, I will not leave the house without my cell phone.