Small, Almost Microscopically Small, DIY Victories

Some DIY projects are immense and impressive. Others merely help get you through the day without calling a locksmith.

A week or two ago, it was the keys. I had forgotten them in my haste to get Babygirl out of the house and to pre-school on time, and then I stopped to pick up some groceries on my way home, so when I approached the door, I was both laden with perishables and hungry for breakfast. I ate a banana out of the bag while I pondered my options.

Well, first I cursed for a while and shook my fist at the sky. Then I pondered. One friend has an extra set of my keys, but she works in Manhattan. Ben of course has his keys, but he works in Manhattan too and was in a meeting.

I called a local locksmith to see what he would charge to let me in my own house. Since the downstairs neighbors were there to buzz me into the building, there was only one lock standing between me and an egg sandwich. “$125,” said the locksmith. “Plus a $50 consulting fee.”

“So, $175?” I said. “Or is there a way I can avoid the fee?”

“$125,” said the locksmith. “Plus a $50 consulting fee.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “What are you consulting? Is the total price $175?”

“$125 — “ said the locksmith.

“I’ll call you back,” I said, and hung up.

I texted another friend who is often home during the day to see if maybe I’d given her a set of keys that I’d forgotten about. (No.) I texted the friend who I knew had my keys to see if either, by some miracle, she was home, or if her landlord was home and could let me in. (No.) I called the pre-school to see if, by some other miracle, I had actually left my keys in the stroller. (No.)

Miracles being in short supply, I left my groceries with a neighbor and turned to subway trains, spending $5 and an hour and a half going into midtown and back again to borrow Ben’s keys. I spent another $6 while I was there on an arepa so that I wouldn’t pass out. As I sat half-crouched on the sidewalk eating my delayed breakfast out of a paper bag, I told myself wearily, “Well, at least it isn’t raining.”

Total DIY Cost Of Getting In My Own Door: $11, plus stress and lost time

Yesterday, it was the doorknob. As I was closing the door behind me in a rush to get to an appointment, the doorknob came off in my hand. I tried to screw it back on, but the bolt to which it screwed retreated further into the innards of the door, out of my reach.

I took a deep breath, placed the doorknob gently on the floor, and went to my appointment, wondering grimly if this was the locksmith’s revenge. Would I have to call him after all? Would he recognize my number and this time quote an even higher “consulting fee”?

I went to my appointment and then to pick up Babygirl from preschool, knowing that a broken door awaited us as surely and inarguably as death itself. And, indeed, when we got home, there it was.

Outside the building next door, though, was a friendly neighbor, one who had recently let us hitch a ride with her to Jersey. “Is it fair to ask for another favor?” I wondered. Then, like anyone caring for a toddler would, I decided to choose expedience over pride.

“Do you have a set of pliers, by any chance?” I asked her.

She disappeared and reappeared, three minutes later, with so many tools she looked like, as she put it, “Edward Plier-hands.” Turns out she makes jewelry in her spare time. I chose one small pair and, with her and Babygirl looking on, managed to yank the bolt out and hold it still while I reattached the knob and opened the door. Success! Glory be! Hosannah!

My neighbor told me to keep the little pliers until we were sure we had entirely fixed the door knob problem and, with gratitude, I placed them in my purse.

Total DIY Cost Of Getting Into My Own House: $0, and some undefined cost to my pride, though it was also a boost to know I could fix my own damn doorknob, given tools.

This story is part of our DIY Month.

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