Moral Quandary

One of the problems with writing here is the lack of internet access, meaning no dictionary.com, which is how I check my spelling and usage of stuff (words). I'm inconvenienced by the lack of spellcheck on my laptop, but again, I'd rather the dictionary.com. That's way better than always having a computer question whether or not I'm spelling "Spider-Man" right.

(Yes, I'm vaguely aware that I could add words to the acceptable usage database or whatever.)

Anyway, to get to the subject.

When I was working last weekend (likely Saturday), this guy knocks at the window beside me, wanting to get in. It's three in the morning, he's drunk- but at least I have seen him before, I know that he lives in the building, though this rap-rap-rapping is the first we've ever communicated.

I let him in, and all he wants to do is leave his music equipment here in the lobby as he hops back in the cab to go back to wherever he was just now. He lost his keys, his bag, his phone.

Did you want to call your phone?

Don't have the number.

Honest mistake.

So he leaves and I'm in charge of his stuff in the lobby for a good 40+ minutes. I really considered doing my patrol the second he left, just a quick run through, but with music stuff being as expensive as it is, I didn't want to take the chance. But I also had to go pee, and that was starting to build up.

Happily, my buddy from the townholmes, possibly drunk, definitely exhausted, stood watch while I did my patrol and take care of business.

(I was slowing down/getting sleepy, but I put on the second episode of Psych and am now happy as a clam. But my writing efficiency has taken a huge hit. Pretty sure I misspelled "efficiency" just now...)

(Man, I love this show. How is it that NO ONE has heard of it but me? This is what happens when you air on uh, well, some American channel we don't get up here. Which, really, is quite a trick for us Canucks.)

Okay, a couple of hours later and I'm back. Just on the, what, 34 York Mills bus? Had to run for it, but I'm almost back on schedule for getting home. Not so much for my writing. You know I was SUPPOSED to do three entries tonight. One good one will have to do, and I'll catch up later some more.

So anyways, the guy finally comes back, sans keys. Couldn't find them. So he asks if I have the key to let him into his apartment. No, I don't. The superintendant does, but there are two problems with that. The first is that it's 4am and he'll be asleep. The second is that even if it's 8pm the guy would give me a hard tme about getting him for this type of job.

It never fails, if I call him about this sort of thing "but man, what would you do if I wasn't there?"

"That's academic, you are here now."

"But what if I WASN'T?"

Basically the guy would rather we call the locksmith in these situations. It doesn't matter that it would take two minutes and the people that this happens to are already having a rough night, no, let's slap on that $100 for the locksmith (wish I was kidding about that price).

Needless to say, I find this reluctance to help a brother out annoying.

So, when prompted, I admit that the super can open the door, but I CERTAINLY don't helpfully suggest I wake the guy up with a call. Instead I suggest the locksmith. There's no answer at the 24hr locksmith, so I set the guy up in the library with his stuff and tell him I'll keep trying. He THANKS me.

I finally reach the locksmith, learn about the $100 (I had an inkling about the amount, but I as hoping I was crazy), but find out the guy was scheduled to come to the building at 10pm already, and it's be an hour and a half anyways if we did make the call for him to come now.

So $100 to wait an hour and a half, or wait 5 hours and get the job free (not counting getting the super if you're lucky two hours earlier maybe). It wasn't my call, but if it was, no question I'd wait.

Well, it was close, but he decided to wait too. I said I'd give a shout when I left at 6am, and I gave a weak one, but I didn't really want to wake the guy, he was so out of it, he needed the rest.

When I saw him the next day, again he thanked me for the help. My "help" of not getting the super, or whatever.

I did, technically, help the super by letting him sleep, and I did, technically, help the guy find a place to chill and hook him up with the locksmith (eventually) but was I more worried about getting a lecture from the super and maybe getting this guy into his own bed?

So yeah. The moral of the story is I hate it when people lose their keys, drunkenly or otherwise.