All the cuffs I've got use the same key.
Most are Smith & Wesson or similar police issue; reasonably well maintained and still working fine, though i've had them 20 years. I have one spare key on my belt ring and another on my altar.
OK, so Almost every pair of cuffs I've got uses the same key. I forgot about a cheap pair I got to hold my luggage closed a couple years ago. OK, so in my cleaning zeal last month I threw the cheap cuffs in with the others... and the universal key that opens every other pair in the house doesn't open them.
No sweat. I've got a dozen pervert friends in every direction. One's just a few blocks away.
Her keys don't fit either. Hmmmm.
My captive has a good sense of humour. We're both hungry, and she has brought lots of fresh, fun food.
I get to work making us supper. She's wearing a silk scarf and the cheap cuffs, standing in the kitchen and watching me while I'm overcooking noodles, frying chicken, steaming peas and braising eggplant, pausing occasionally to feed her a kumquat and apologize again. She's giggling. She's still giggling when my ex shows up with keys my neighbor left in her mailbox [still no dice]. An hour and 400 embarrassing phone calls later (where IS everybody on a Tuesday night?!), when my brilliant, persevering heroine of an ex rushes back in from the open-to-midnight hardware with a pair of bolt cutters as long as my arm, giggling does start to seem like the best response.
Supper is pretty damn good, all considered. Woulda been better timed if she'd had her hands free, I bet. By midnight the cuffs are in 4 pieces and we're ready to sleep (well, almost.)
The morals of this tale? Cleaning up is dangerous in significant and lasting ways, and I'm still the luckiest human on earth.
I find out today if I get my passport to fly thursday.
Please wish me further luck...
Most are Smith & Wesson or similar police issue; reasonably well maintained and still working fine, though i've had them 20 years. I have one spare key on my belt ring and another on my altar.
OK, so Almost every pair of cuffs I've got uses the same key. I forgot about a cheap pair I got to hold my luggage closed a couple years ago. OK, so in my cleaning zeal last month I threw the cheap cuffs in with the others... and the universal key that opens every other pair in the house doesn't open them.
No sweat. I've got a dozen pervert friends in every direction. One's just a few blocks away.
Her keys don't fit either. Hmmmm.
My captive has a good sense of humour. We're both hungry, and she has brought lots of fresh, fun food.
I get to work making us supper. She's wearing a silk scarf and the cheap cuffs, standing in the kitchen and watching me while I'm overcooking noodles, frying chicken, steaming peas and braising eggplant, pausing occasionally to feed her a kumquat and apologize again. She's giggling. She's still giggling when my ex shows up with keys my neighbor left in her mailbox [still no dice]. An hour and 400 embarrassing phone calls later (where IS everybody on a Tuesday night?!), when my brilliant, persevering heroine of an ex rushes back in from the open-to-midnight hardware with a pair of bolt cutters as long as my arm, giggling does start to seem like the best response.
Supper is pretty damn good, all considered. Woulda been better timed if she'd had her hands free, I bet. By midnight the cuffs are in 4 pieces and we're ready to sleep (well, almost.)
The morals of this tale? Cleaning up is dangerous in significant and lasting ways, and I'm still the luckiest human on earth.
I find out today if I get my passport to fly thursday.
Please wish me further luck...
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
kaffeine:
Yes, I'll bet you can find some new and interesting uses for those bolt cutters. Also, you can set your sexual habits to "I buy my sex toys at the hardware store" in your profile, and it will be totally honest!
sodome:
No, total honesty would be: my ex buys my sex toys at the hardware store. .