The NFL player invited me over to his pad for a Super Bowl party.
Me: Can I bring two dates? One you’ve met – he’s in grammar school and likes to sing – the other is a young blonde I’ve been seeing lately. Not sure if she’s free but I’ll ask? Him: Sure – I hope she is smoking! Me: Well, I certainly think so.
Like I said, it’s nice to be social and have company. Honestly, it’s nice having someone to (finally) invite to come with me to alla these things I get invited to all the time – and I literally get 2-4 invites to something every week, despite being so clumsy.
Still, it’s been years since I’ve been able to just add someone to a guest list so it does take a little getting used to.
She was great though, although my son was slightly confused…
Him: Wait, [the Firecracker]’s coming? Me: Yep. Him: (shrugs) OK.
…but not terribly so.
He really does roll with the punches very well, I gotta say.
Since everyone lived local, we got there a bit early and had the gorgeous food spread all to ourselves.
Me: Should we wait until the other guests arrive? Housekeeper: No – eat, eat. Me: (sitting down) No need to tell me twice, lady.
The Firecracker had never been in this building, although she’d seen it and walked by it a few times.
Me: I think Bono and Steve Martin also live here. Her: No kidding! Me: Maybe we’ll run into one of them?
Everyone was just great, and the night was a lotta fun – although the kid was mainly just interested in the food and his tablet.
Him: Can I have dessert? Me: ONE thing. Him: Yay! I want the football cookie.
The Firecracker had to leave early because she had another event to go to, and then the kid and I had to leave because he had school the next day.
Me: Did you have a good time? Him: Yes. I like [the Firecracker and the NFL Player]. Me: Good. Maybe we’ll keep them around for a bit.
Her: Logan! (shakes head, sighs) What’s the opposite of a cougar? Me: I dunno. Her: Logan Lo…
It’s been super busy lately, sorry for the lack of updates.
I suppose the two things that are taking up the most of my time are: the tax increase (boo!) and the Firecracker (yay!).
I’ve not been social with too many of my old friends for reasons I’ve told you about before, but lately, that’s been changing.
For example, I’ve always wanted to introduce someone to my college friends but either no one I was dating reached that level of comfort or the people that did wouldn’t have appreciated it or them.
The last person I introduced my college friends to was Alison and that was over a decade ago.
But my friends were celebrating two of our groups birthdays and I asked if the Firecracker wanted to come along.
Me: The thing is, there might be a theme. Her: What’s the theme? Me: The 90s. Her: I love it! We gotta do it.
So, we got dressed up and headed downtown to Kimika to meet everyone.
Honestly, one of the best things about her is her positivity. I didn’t realize how much negativity I’d been harbouring in my life for the past few years.
She loved Clueless as a kid so dressed somewhat similarly to Cher/Alicia Silverstone while I channeled my inner Will Ferrel from Night at the Roxbury, combined with the Rock from the 90s.
The fella over my shoulder’s Gar, whose home I went to over the summer to swim.
It was a ton of fun. The food was ridic good and I cannot tell you how many bottles of wines and glasses of rum I went through.
Although, I should comment that we were all talking about us all getting older and I had a glass of red wine in my hand and I literally snapped it in half for some inexplicable reason.
Table: LOGAN! What happened? Her: Did you just snap that in half? Me: Yes? Her: Why did you do that? Me: I didn’t do it intentionally!
I really didn’t. Suppose I’m really, really not mentally ready to turn 50.
That woulda been the end of that…had I not spilled another glass of water a few minutes later.
Table: (groans) Me: (to Firecracker) This may explain why I don’t get invited out a lot.
For some reason, they didn’t tell me to leave. In fact, they invited us out to drinks afterward at another friend’s bar, Ms. Yoo.
Along the way, I ended up chatting with Gar’s wife, Wynn.
Her: So, I’m just watching some things on YouTube and you know what shows up? Me: No idea. Her: You! I get this suggested video from Scenic Fights and there’s your face! Me: Sweeeeeeet. You’re welcome.
The bar was pretty packed with people but it was still great.
LT: Here are some cards for comped drinks. Me: Thanks! I promise to try and not spill anything.
It was a pretty insanely cold weekend this past weekend.
6 degrees was the low on both Friday and Saturday with Sunday having a high of 48 degrees, which was all pretty absurd.
Oddly, the gym was bursting at the seams on the coldest day of the week.
Didn’t expect that at all.
Sunday, I found out that my buddy, Grace, was holding a passport registration thingy in Flushing so I decided to (a) support her and (b) take care of getting the kid a passport.
Figured it’d be win-win. I was wrong.
First of all, the 7 train, which we use to get out there, wasn’t running so we had to transfer a few times to get to where it was.
Then when we showed up, the line was around the block. Literally.
We stood there for a solid hour.
The kid tried to entertain himself as best he could.
Ultimately, it didn’t move so we ended up just bailing.
I’m seeing my college friends this weekend for a 90s-themed dinner, so I decided to get a cheap haircut while we were in Flushing and also see my fam.
The kid was a riot over at the hair salon – the following was all in my crappy Chinese.
Her: He said, “thank you,” in Chinese! Me: That’s about all he can say. Her: It’s a start. Can I give him a piece of candy? Me: Sure! He’ll love that. Her: It’s doesn’t matter what kind of kid it is, they all love sweets, don’t they? Me: Looks that way. But he does like to eat.
Afterward, I went to see my mom and sister.
They both cooked and I ate until I was beyond stuffed.
I had the saddest thought recently, that there’ll come a time when I’ll wanna see my mom and I won’t be able to.
Shit, just writing that hurt my heart.
Me: Thanks for dinner, mom! (pause) I love you. Her: You’re welcome! And I love you too!
Think my sister may be the only person that regularly bakes more than me for his/her kids.
Like me, she bakes high fiber, low-carb, delicious things. Tonight was a chocolate swirl cheesecake that was killer.
When I went for my second slice, we had the following exchange:
Her: Hey, do you want some tea? Me: Do I! Her: Decaf? Me: Great! Her: Heavy cream ok? Me: Yes, please. Her: Here you go. (hands me cup, sits down) So…tell me about the Firecracker. Me: (laughs)
Location: this afternoon, showing the kid where I grew up
Mood: thoughtful
Music: If it’s alright, I’d like to stay (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Firecracker: I like you and you like me and we’re trying to see what we could be. Me: Oh, that rhymes. Her: I know, I said it.
While I still believe that most of my luck is of the stripe that no one wants, I do gotta say that I feel lucky that I meet so many good souls in my life.
My buddy CoB makes a number of appearances in this blog and in my life in general.
I’ll just be doing one rando thing or another and I’ll get a completely non sequitur message from her that comes outta nowhere.
Case in point, she sent me the following images while telling me about what was going on her life.
Her: Took myself out after [after an awful day]. I DESERVE A RESTAURANT WEEK LUNCH! Me: You def do! (later) OMG, you just massively changed my dinner plans. I was going to take the Firecracker to a casual bar thingy but you reminded me that it’s restaurant week so now we’re heading to The Library at The Astor – thanks to you! Her: Ohhhhh I love that place! Have all the funz!
I was in NJ, dropping the kiddo off at my in-laws and rushing for time. The Firecracker and I met up around me as I got ready in 10 minutes, and we headed down to Astor Place together.
Her: Are you trying to impress me with your directional skills? Me: God, no. I would get lost in a sealed paper bag.
Neither she nor I had ever been to The Library. One massive plus of going to a nice joint is that it’s usually less crowded.
It turns out that we share a lot of the same tastes in food except for three major things:
Most of my diet consists of some form of peanut butter – after all, the kid and I go through close to two pounds of the stuff per week. She cannot stand the sight nor smell of it.
She doesn’t like Indian food.
She can’t handle spicy food.
Buddy: Dude, I swear to god, if you mess this up over peanut butter… Me: How dumb do you think I am? Him: (stares) Me: Fair…
Finally, she’s very good at expressing herself, which I really appreciate. I think I’ve spent years talking with people but never actually communicating with them.
Her: You know, instead of looking for red flags, maybe look for green flags. Me: Green flags? Her: (nodding) Reasons to do this thing instead of not. Me: Well, you do have a lotta those, Firecracker. Her: As do you, Logan Lo.
Met up with the Firecracker for an early morning burger the other day as well, after I dropped the kid off at school.
Me: This used to be a joint called The Royal Canadian Pancake House that sold pancakes as big as [a trashcan lid]. Her: That sounds ridiculous. Me: (nodding) Totally was.
Like I said, there’s something incredibly convenient about seeing someone from the hood.
The fact that she’s sweet, smart, and hot doesn’t hurt.
Her: Let’s not give this thing a name, Lo. I like things how they are. Me: (nodding) That’s fine. I take direction well.
Later that week, I brought her a salad because she was working from home and was down for company.
We’re finding that, with the exception of a couple bright-line differences, we seem to live similar lives.
Me: I also brought you some bread. Her: (shaking head) You’re sweet but I don’t generally eat carbs. Usually just a protein and veggies. Me: OMG, that’s exactly like me.
She makes me laugh because she only ever calls me by my full name, “Logan Lo,” or just “Lo.”
She reminds me of the kids in Peanuts that call Charlie Brown by his full name, or Calvin and Hobbes calling Susie Derkins, “Susie Derkins.”
I only ever call her the Firecracker because I know three people with the exact same name as her.
Plus, I think it’s apropos to her personality.
We’re breaking all our rules around each other for some reason. For example, she introduced me to both her dad and sister, as well as her kid, something that she doesn’t normally do.
I break rules for her too but that’s something I’ll just keep to myself.
Part of being a single-father is finding things that the kid and I can both do together.
I got him this wooden knife kit just to have something to do with him and was excited to put it together with him and talk about things like knife safety and such.
Unfortunately, he didn’t really understand that it was supposed to be a him-and-me thingy and he gave it to his sitter to put together with him.
Tried my best to hide my disappointment – after all, it was my fault that I didn’t tell him that it was a him-and-me thing – but I was still bummed that we couldn’t do it.
Still, I like this little life he and I have together.
But I daydream of more.
I wonder if “more” is in the cards for a fella like me.
Me: Thanks. Her: For what? Me: (shrugging) It’s nice having someone to daydream about. It’s been a long time since I could daydream about anyone without it hurting. Her: (nodding) Yeah…
Her: I guess I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Me: Do you know where that saying came from? It came from packed tenement housing here in NYC back in the day. Mothers would put their kids to sleep and, late at night, a labourer would come home and loudly drop their shoe in the apartment, waking up the kids and making life hell for the family below them. But the worst part was when they took their time taking off the other shoe. These exhausted women would sit in their apartment, rocking their crying kid, and screaming in their heads, “Just drop the other fucking shoe already!” Her: (thinking) You should be on a game show. Me: I was.
The Firecracker came by the other night for dinner and I made some Fish Meunière, with cauliflower rice and a salad, which she seemed to enjoy.
Her: That was really good! (later) Although, I would have done a better job. Me: What the hell? Her: (laughing) I cook, Logan! When you make dinner for women that don’t cook, they’re gonna think that everything you make is great. Me: (grumble)
Like I said, there was something familiar about us to each other but, at least, she figured out part of the reason I was familiar to her.
But I’ll tell you that part in a sec.
She also has a dog, but a very small one. That’s more of an issue than anything else.
First, I gotta say that having someone you’re dating live ten minutes from your pad is a game-changer.
Mainly, because we can do last-minute, unplanned things like lunch at the local diner.
Which is what we did the next day when I went over to her pad and chilled out while she got ready.
Her: I gotta blow-dry. It’s gonna get loud. Me: I’m aware of how blow dryers work. Her: I’m just telling you!
While she was getting ready, we just made some small talk as we were still getting to know each other.
Her: Which one? Me: (laughing) Cash Cab. Her: Cash Cab?! I loved that show! Really? Me: Yeah, Google “Logan and Masa on Cash Cab.”
She did exactly that and, presently, I was in this stranger’s apartment watching myself on her television while she got ready.
It was all very surreal.
Her: I remember that episode! I remember you! Me: Get outta town. Her: No, really, I remember that episode and watching it. I swear I thought you looked familiar. Me: That’s nuts. Her: The first stop after I brush my teeth is your face. Me: Good first stop.
The actual lunch was a bit nuts. We had just sat down and ordered at my local diner when I got word that I had to grab my son earlier than expected.
Me: I’m so sorry, I gotta dine and dash. Her: No problem. Do you want me to drop it off later? Me: Sure!
But after I got the boy, he asked for a playdate with onea his friends.
Me: You just got back! Him: Please?!
So, I rang his friend’s dad, who told me to drop him off for a couplea hours.
Then I dashed back to see the Firecracker, who was still sitting having a cup of coffee.
Her: Hey, you’re back. Me: I’m back. (thinking) Man, I shoulda thrown a scene, tossed a few things around, and then come back sheepishly apologizing. Her: (laughs) Just sit down and eat. Me: Done. I’m starving.
One of the earliest entries I ever wrote in this blog was a philosophical question as to the nature of hope.
Was/Is it the ultimate good or the ultimate evil?
After everything, I think it’s the latter. Hope brings us to such great heights, only to have us fall and almost crush us. The greater the hope, the greater the fall.
Every time I think, This time, it’ll be different, I’m always shown that it’s not.
And so, I try my best to just live and not hope any more. As much as any human can do, anywho.
Suppose I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop, cause it always does.
But as much as I try not to hope that my life might possibly be different, I can’t help but do it.
I don’t write about most of my dates these days because social media in 2023 is a lot different than in was in 2006 and people get annoyed, even if there’s no real identifying information.
But also because they all start blending together into that soupy grey I dislike so much.
The same, “So, what do you do, who do you know, blah, blah, blah,” gets monotonous.
Me: So, Jane, what brought you to New York? Her: Ann. My name is Ann. Me: (nodding) This is going well.
But every so often, someone cuts through the hazy grey and gives me some colour.
I cancelled two other dates this week, although one was kinda mutual, but something about the blue-eyed blonde from my neighborhood made me not, despite my not feeling the best, what with all the medical issues popping up.
Plus, she really made everything super easy for me by agreeing to meet up at a bar just a few blocks south of my pad.
She was sitting at the bar in red with her back to me when I showed up. The seat next to her was open so I slid into it.
She turned to me and looked at me with eyes the colour of faded blue jeans. And you know I’ve always loved that.
We both looked at each other and laughed.
Her: (smiling) Hi, Logan! Me: (laughing) Hello, Firecracker. Don’t you look nice. Her: You too.
With some dates, conversation’s a struggle.
The actual exchanges are usually fine but it’s really the quality of the segues that make a conversation interesting or desultory.
Lemme tell you that the odds are much improved when someone has an easy laugh and upbeat enthusiasm.
Confidence helps…
Her: (mischievously) Anything you want to tell me? Me: I take it you found the blog? Her: (laughing) It’s the first thing that showed up when I googled you. Me: (shrugging) I never mention it because it’s so easy to find. Her: You date a lot. Me: (nodding) I do. I like to say that I’m like Harvard. Anyone can apply, not everyone makes the cut.
..but like I’ve always said, the truth is a powerful thing. And true things are often funny and earnest at the same time.
Her: I’m like this dorky girl that’s attractive Me: (chidingly) Ah, you admit you’re hot. Her: Oh yeah, I’m hot.
Actually brought her to the same two bars that I brought my buddy, the Frenchman. Just because it was familiar and easy.
Too much of my life, lately, has been strange and difficult.
Me: Do you want to go to another bar? Her: So, I take it this is going well? Me: This is going well. (shaking head) Shit, I’m in trouble. Her: Because I’m a buxom blonde? Me: Well, yes. And you’re sweet. I like kindness. Kindness is hot because douchebag is forever.
I told her to eat the dried lime. That was a huge mistake.
We first met up at 7PM and didn’t call it a night until 3AM. Those are the types of interactions I hope for and it’s so rare it happens.
Her: You’re an onion. [Every time I think I get you, there’s another layer.] Me: I’ll take that as a compliment. (later) Thanks for a lovely evening. Her: Same. Me: I honestly never do this but…I don’t suppose you want to grab dinner [this week]? Her: (smiling) Sure. It’s a date. Goodnight, Logan Lo. Me: (nodding) Goodnight, Firecracker.
On the night I taught the class, I took a heel to my forehead from one of the guys and saw stars.
The guy was apologetic – it was an accident, after all – but he’s been pretty wild before. I did manage to get the tap after we resumed so there’s that.
Fast forward a few days and I woke up with some eye irritation and a lot of floaters so my doctor brother strongly suggested that I get that looked at.
Didn’t wanna go back to the ER for the millionth time so I called a buncha places with no luck but then I found a place just a few blocks south of my pad on W 79th. They closed in 40 mins.
Receptionist: When can you get here? Me: 20 mins? Less, maybe. Her: Run!
So, I did.
Before I knew it, I was on the ground floor of a beautiful townhouse and getting stuff pointed and sprayed into my eye.
Honestly, I’m thrilled that I managed to find him versus having to head to the ER. And within walking running distance to boot.
Some 40 minutes later, I was being checked out. I was the last patient of the day so the doc and I got to talking.
Turns out that we had a lot in common as I shared what happened with my dad and Alison.
Him: You’ll be fine. No detached retina. The floaters will be a problem for a while but not much to do there. Me: That’s a relief. Him: I’m glad we met. Come back for a checkup in 4-6 weeks and we’ll chat some more. Me: Sure thing, doc.
He dilated my pupils so getting home was an adventure in itself.
Almost got hit by a car more than once. It was like walking outside and staring right at the sun. Had something similar happen before I started writing this blog.
Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime.
Driver: WTF is wrong with you?! Are you @#$@# blind? Me: Well, yeah, actually…
Speaking of beautiful things in my neighborhood, there’s this effervescent blonde from my neighborhood that I met recently.
She found something familiar about me and I, her.
Her: You really are so easy on the eyes. Me: My mom thinks I’m dreamy. Her: She has good taste.
After the GES all those years ago – and the fact that I had to avoid my fave bar for a few years because I kept running into women I dated there – I had a rule to not date women in my area.
GES was the last one, and that was 16 years ago.
edit: Actually, the Aerialist was the last one but that was so quick that I forgot about it.
But I’m trying some new things these days. Plus, her particular charms helped encourage me to break my rule(s).
The kicker was that she lived steps from the doc.
Her: I can meet you for a drink [that] evening. We can keep it local since it’s convenient for both of us. Me: Perfect. Let’s do that. We’ll work out details today/tomorrow but it’s a date. Her: Those are three magical words: “It’s a date.” So full of possibilities.
Location: earlier today, W 77th and Broadway, making plans
Mood: good
Music: a chance, it’s worth taking (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Been insanely busy these days, mainly with my slowly stirring social life, which itself is an entire entry.
On that note, the Frenchman and Bryson – who both know each other – stopped by my gym the other day.
It’s been ages since Bryson was at my pad last. I’m 33 in that pic in that entry.
I miss that leather jacket.
It was cool to see the Frenchman roll because a number of the gym members knew him as only as a beginning kali student and definitely not as a seasoned BJJ black belt.
I rolled with both Bryson (a brown belt) – who missed the entire class but ended up catching the sparring part – and the Frenchman. I was surprised to see that I survived as long as I did.
They both wrecked me. It was glorious.
Did manage to catch Chad in an omaplata (!!) in one of our rolls, which is the second time I’ve tapped him in 14 years. Pure luck.
So, I’m averaging one tap on him every seven years, which is actually far better than I woulda expected, lemme tell ya.
Unfortunately, the Frenchman, like me, had a number of injuries and he definitely tweaked it again rolling with Chad, who I’m sure, was happy to be on the mats with two high-level fellas like them.
Him: Rolling after 40 is a different thing. Me: Preaching to the converted, man.
Afterward, the three of us left with the kid to head back to my place to drink and catch up.
Me: Heya! Are we still on for tonight? Her: I mean, I’m still testing positive for covid…
The reason I had the kid with me was the same reason that we had to shut down the gym the other day; his sitter was supposed to watch him so I could hang out with them but she ended up getting COVID. Ditto for his guitar instructor.
But I was happy he got to meet Bryson. I consider him one of my oldest and dearest friends, even though we rarely see each other.
Kinda think that’s just how it is these days.
The kid’s been on a taco kick lately; this is what I made for him earlier in the week…
But there’s this killer taco truck one block away from my pad and we left the gym late. Like, really late.
Me: You guys should get something here. The food is outstanding. Frenchman: You don’t want anything? It’s on me. Me: Nah, I’m still single so I gotta try and look good. But I’m sure the kid’ll want something. Boy: YESH!
It was great catching up with them. The kid liked having a full house. And the late-night Mexican.
Me: Why are you always hungry?! Boy: YOU’RE ALWAYS HUNGRY. Me: (scowling because I was just bested by a seven-year-old)
They gave me a ton of gossip about all the other schools and the goings-on there. We also talked a lot about child-rearing.
Me: As the only one of us without a daughter, I’m just gonna say I’m guessing that’s even more stressful. Bryson: No way, boys are a terror. Terror!
It was pretty fun night that we said we’d do again.
The next day, I brought the kid out to my in-laws and then came back.
Also met up with another single-serving girlie, which is all that really needs to be said. Another date to nowhere.
It was a short little innocuous meetup.
Her: You’re a little too charming for my tastes. My spider-sense goes off when someone’s too charming. Me: Give it time, darling. I’ll be sure to disappoint you, somehow.
Had a few more dates lined up this week too but an unexpected trip to the doctor for a medical emergency and a blue-eyed blonde firecracker messed up those plans.
But that’s for another entry.
Her: You’re the first guy I’ve ever googled and actually found something besides their LinkedIn. Me: You’re welcome?
Location: this morning, getting an early morning Reuben with a new friend and not getting to eat it.
Mood: super tired
Music: never get old (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Watching either my BJJ or kali instructor do their thing is always something impressive. It’s like they can read your mind and know what you’re going to do before you do.
It really just comes with experience and knowing what’s possible versus what’s probable. The longer you do something, the more you see what the likely outcomes to things are.
I’ve run my building for decades now. Think I first told you about it some 16 years ago but, really, I’ve been managing buildings with my dad since the 90s. Did my first big deal when I was a senior in high school.
Kinda like Trump and his dad but without the greed, lying, and closeted racism.
Because of that, I’ve seen the same mistakes happen time and time again.
One thing I’ve had the worst luck with is a specialized lock called a mortise lock. Up until recently – I’m guessing due to things AirBnB and people wanting higher-end stuff – it wasn’t very common here in the US but is super common in Europe.
Except in NYC where almost every building has these goddamn things.
They’re elegant but very confusing to people that have never used one before. Because one single lock with one single key controls three different types of locking mechanisms on a door; a single mortise locks:
the knob itself
a deadbolt built into the lock, and
the latching lock.
To make things even more complicated, there’s an internal toggle that switches on the knob lock (number 4 in the diagram below). So, let’s just say that there are three “locks” in this single lock.
They’re mechanically beautiful and like most beautiful things, troublesome.
(c) Bella Maximum Security
It’s hard to explain but if you’re ever in NYC, just go to any old building and check out the locks. Chances are good, it’s a mortice lock.
Anywho, when Chad and I opened up the gym, I knew that this lock was gonna cause us problems.
I cannot tell you how many times I’ve had to return to NYC after being in NJ with Alison or the reporter (who also lived in NJ) because someone got locked out due to one of the three locking systems of the mortise lock locking a tenant outta their pad.
So, I hooked up this very elegant wifi enabled lock to bypass the mortise lock entirely in the gym with the kicker being that we could unlock the lock anywhere in the world.
But the students kept yanking at the wifi lock, because it’s oddly shaped and some people thought it was a handle, breaking it.
Super frustrating.
Chad was mindful of costs, which I understand, and didn’t wanna replace the wifi lock and I was too busy to fight him on the matter.
Unfortunately, he got COVID earlier this week so people had to cover class. That part was fine. The issue arose when one of our buddies, Thundercat was helping around in the gym and locked all three of the locking mechanisms on the mortise and also locked the deadbolt we had the wifi lock attached to.
Obviously, he was trying to be helpful so it’s not like he did anything wrong per se. But since we never used the mortise, no one had a key for it.
Long story short, about 10 people, including my kali instructor, were standing outside for over an hour waiting for Chad – who was still sick with COVID and had to schlepp all the way from his warm bed – to come by with the one key necessary to open the lock. Poor guy.
He went up alone because he had COVID, and didn’t realize how the lock worked – again, not his fault either, look at that damn thing, hence my wanting to bypass it altogether with the tech solution – and told everyone to go home before I had a chance to say anything.
I wanted to take a look and expected that Thundercat broke the key in the lock because Chad couldn’t get it open but it turns out that it was just the trickiness of the lock itself.
By the time I opened the gym up, several people already left.
Honestly, I feel that I shoulda insisted on replacing the tech lock and sealing off the toggle of the mortise, which I finally did with athletic tape.
But it’s so hard to explain and I always figure it’s best to just let people figure things out for themselves.
Like I said, I’m upgrading my OS. I’m trying to focus on just making sure I’m working ok before I try to fix anything or anyone else.
Me: Put on your long socks. Him: I don’t wanna. Me: You gotta trust me on this, kid. Him: I don’t wanna! Me: [In my head: It’s raining. Which means you gotta wear your boots. If you wear your short socks, they’ll get pulled down in your boots, which means that you’ll keep stopping every five minutes to fix them, meaning we’ll be late for school] Hokay. But we’re not stopping for any reason.
