Thursday, February 28, 2008

A crazy evening!

This evening deserves a blog of its own. Read on, if you are curious. (And please don't forget that most of the conversations were in French - with me struggling along).
In my building, some work has been going on (since more than a month) to install the heating and radiators. Earlier, in January, the project manager equivalent of the team had requested my house keys since I am not at home during the day and they needed to enter my home to set up something. When he saw me hesitating, he assured me that the concierge of the building would be present and nothing would go amiss. So, we arranged that I would hand my keys over to him the next morning and he would put it in my post-box when he was leaving. (I usually never come home before 6:30 pm and these guys stop working at 5:30 pm - So, that was the best option). Being a bit paranoid about keys, I checked so many times before leaving home, that I had the key of my letter-box with me and it was not kept safely in the key-rack. Later, in the evening, I found that they had left the keys, as promised. By some stroke of luck or plain laziness, the key to my letter-box stayed with me since then, and never found its way back on the key rack.
Fast forward to Monday - The team-lead guy of the team of technicians told me that they needed the keys again on Wednesday (aka today) and asked me if I have a duplicate set, since he wasn't sure how long they would take to finish the work. This guy happens to know English, which was great for me! I explained that I have just one set of keys (Ya, I told you I am lazy) and we can have the same arrangement as before. He readily agreed and this morning, while leaving, I handed him my keys, reminded him once again to leave the keys in the letter-box and went to work with a free mind. I returned home at 6:40 pm, parked my car and went to a supermarket nearby to buy some groceries, before it could close. On my way, a horrible thought struck me - Have I got the key to the letter box?? All thoughts of haste for the groceries just vanished while I rummaged in my bag and pockets of the coat for the little key. Surprise! Surprise! It was with me! Smiling, I continued to the shop. The anti-climax was when I entered the building and found out that my keys were not left in my letter-box....

I checked the letter-boxes of my neighbours (just by peeping in, of course) thinking that the guy would have got confused and I could just request someone to open their box and give me my keys. No luck! None of the boxes that I could reach had my keys in them! Now? What to do? I called the project-manager guy of that team (Yes, his number was up on the notice-board of our building with some old announcement)! No response. I was directed to the voicemail. Hmm... If you have seen me speak French, you would know that I can manage to stumble over words, punctuate with hand gestures and convey my message. But, speaking on a phone to leave a recorded message while I was entering the panic mode - I will leave it to your imagination... I, then, called the concierge. He stays across Geneva from my place. So, though it wasn't the best option, I still had hope that he would have mercy on me and would come with his key. And what do you know? No answer.

The glimmer of hope now turned to despair. I tried the concierge again. And, wonder of wonders, he rejected my call!! $*%&/@ Now, that I knew someone was there on the other side (though he was a heartless creature), I kept trying his number, until that horrible horrible person switched off the mobile... :(

Then, I called one of my friends here. She stays with her colleague about 10 mins from my place. She told me to come over and they'll find some place I can spend the night. Ok! While I was walking to the bus-stop with my bag of groceries (which was steadily growing heavier - the irony of buying the stuff and not being able to use it was getting to me), I thought of calling my other friend, who is Swiss and would know if I had any other option in such a scenario. I explained my predicament to him and he came up with 4 options :
1. Bunk at his place - Although he stays with his family, I was not in favour of this idea.
2. Call a locksmith service - I could consider this as a last resort. I was not wholeheartedly in favour of this since the agency might refuse to pay the bill and I would have to foot the cost - and if you know Switzerland, you would know that I am not joking when I say "cost".
3. Spend the night at a bar, chatting with him - This was just crazy!
4. Try to call the concierge at his landline number. He volunteered to search the number in the directory, provided I give him the full name.

I was already at the bus stop, but the fourth idea sounded sensible. So, I walked back to my appartment because I didn't remember the full name of that guy. He searched, but could not find a number - apparently, that mean fellow had kept his number unlisted!! Back to square one! As I walked back to the bus-stop, I even toyed with the idea of spending the night in my car. My friend dissuaded me saying that the idea is not a good one during winter. So, I thanked him for his help, promised him that I would call him if nothing works out and ended the call. After buying the ticket to my first friend's place, out of sheer desperation, I called the project-manager guy again. And voila! He answered the call! The tram came while I was trying to understand what he was saying and I missed it. Apparently, the team-lead guy "forgot" and was coming with the keys in 10 minutes!!! I flew back home and waited.

All my resolve to shout and rail at the guy had seeped out in the wintry evening, leaving me numb and tired - so much so that all I did, when he finally came and was profusely apologising, was to thank him!!!!!!!! Uff!! We began talking and he asked if I am Indian and why I do not wear the bindi and some such inane stuff. To top it all (and this kind of shook me out of the numbness settling in), he even insisted on my number after telling me how finding a partner who speaks a different language makes it easier to learn it quickly. Apparently, he was more than willing to help me find a boyfriend, so that my French improves. Sighhhh!! C'est la vie!!

So, now that I am cosy and at home and have documented this weird evening, I'm going to enjoy my pizza with chilli flakes. Bon appetit et bonne nuit!