Ever had an incident that, although very serious at the time, was excruciatingly funny when you retell it? That was the kind of incident that happened to me last weekend.

It was a warm, clear evening, and so I ate dinner on the balcony. My flatmate Melanie had her washing out there on the portable clothes line, and as she was going out, she took her clothes in before she left. What I didn’t notice while I was enjoying my meal was that she had also (accidently I might add) locked the door. A kind of automatic action that you don’t really take notice of most times, like locking the front door. I certainly didn’t, until five minutes after she left and wanted to head back in!

My first reaction was to spew a whole string of unsavoury words. I checked the door – it was locked, there was no way of slipping it out of its runners either. Not good. I looked down to see whether I could jump down to ground level (the apartment was on the first floor). Unless I was a good rock climber or even better, Spiderman, there was no way that I could gracefully jump down without injuring myself. Next option was whether there were any people about I could holler, perhaps use their mobile. But I know Melanie’s notorious with leaving her mobile behind and/or not switching it on, and my parents (who also have the keys to the unit) would panic if a total stranger called to say that their daughter was stuck on the balcony. Either that or they’d crack up laughing. Besides, there was a distinct lack of passers by on a Sunday evening.

So I couldn’t get through the door, couldn’t jump down, couldn’t call anyone (there were probably other options but they didn’t readily come to mind), so there really was only one option – wait it out.

The problem was that Melanie had gone to the movies. It was 7pm when I was locked out, and taking into account that she had to drive 15 minutes to pick up her friend and then drive another 10 minutes to the cinema she wasn’t going to make the 7.30 sessions, which meant she’d be viewing the 9pm movie. Then it would be 2 hours for the movie and another hour to get home (the thought did cross my mind that she may have been staying overnight – she had a big shopping bag with her), so that meant she wouldn’t be back until at least midnight! That was 5 hours!!

Bugger.

5 hours of what? Meditation? Thinking about the meaning of life? Solving world poverty? More like dozing in my chair and watching a lovely sunset while getting bitten by mozzies. Thank god it was a mild night, although it was getting quite cool by 11pm, especially when I had only a sleeveless top and thin track pants. I did however find out more about my neighbours, saw people coming in/out of the apartments that I had never seen before, and found innovative ways to, um, answer the call of nature (think pot plants). Yeah, it was a more interesting experience than I thought. Funnily enough, after the first 2 hours time seemed to go by relatively fast, and I wasn’t pissed off anymore. Perhaps it was just simply a case of accepting my fate and then sticking it out.

Melanie did come home, and got the shock of her life when she walked in just past midnight. But the situation was so absurd that she was rolling around laughing as I retold this story. But she did apologise nicely – she kindly made dinner the next day. I assume she’d take care next time when dealing with the balcony door. I hope.