To understand this story, you may need some background information, especially if you're not from here. So our mailbox is the kind that can be opened with a key. This is to make sure that no one steals our mail (not entirely sure of why anyone would want to steal it, but I guess it makes sense if you get valuable stuff sent to you - we don't). The key itself is tiny and we don't keep it on a key chain because... Well, because we just like living on the edge. And sometimes living on the edge has grave consequences.
So about a week ago we realised that we couldn't find our tiny mailbox key and this obviously means that we have to phone our landlord. Unfortunately we are both scared of him and worried that he is going to demand a fee for losing the key (likely) or yell at us (less likely, but horrifying). So we got the brilliant idea that we'd postpone phoning him and instead poke the mail out with our bare hands.
Picture this. Our mailbox is on a heavily trafficked street. It's even on a small plateau, so everyone can see it. Now picture that I am standing there... with my hand stuck in the mailbox. Stuck. In the. Mailbox. I was originally very careful to not stick it in too far but because of raging peer pressure (Steve kept going 'if you can get it in, you can get it out') I took it one step further, and then it happened. Stuck. You can imagine the panic I experienced. As the over-emotional person I am, my eyes nearly teared up. It's very distressing to fear that you might have to wait for someone to cut your hand out. Luckily after a few minutes of painful twisting I got it out again, with a big red mark on my hand to show for it.
Then we got our next brilliant idea. Kitchen tongs. This worked fairly well (no hands stuck), we could get most of the bigger pieces of mail, and we even got into the routine of doing it in the evening when it was dark so that people wouldn't stare at us as we seemingly broke into someone's mailbox. (Routine - that's right, we've done this more than twice.) We did so tonight as well, and got a couple of letters out. Then someone's nervously slippy hands dropped the kitchen tongs. They are now at the bottom of our mailbox.
So not only do we have to phone our landlord, we now also have to explain to him why there's a pair of kitchen tongs in our mailbox once he helps us to open it. I can't recommend living on the edge.
at this blog, but originally from Posten.