The Door Knob Fiasco

Here, in Malaysia, the bedrooms usually have a button on the inside of the doorknobs that lock when you press it in. And, in most cases, there is no key supplied for these doors. (You can lock yourself in and the door will open again when twisted from the inside.) I discovered the hard way, while living in Seremban, that when you accidentally push the button in, you can lock yourself out. It took a friend over an hour to get the doorknobs off my bedroom door so that I could finally get in.

Here, in Kampar the other day, my bedroom door closed, as it often does. Only, this time, when I went to open it, it wouldn't open. I twisted the knob several times and then unscrewed a bit of the cuff of it to fiddle with the insides a bit. It was super complicated. Forget it.

So, I started trying to slide things between the door frame and the door to push the tongue out of the hole. I was grabbing pieces of plastic, DVD's, pieces of slick cardboard. I even got them to pass the place where it seemed the tongue was inside of the gap in the door, but the door still would not open.

At length, a friend came by and had a look. He twisted the knob all around and announced,

"Look, it's not locked. If it were locked, you couldn't move the knob all the way around."

Yeesh. I didn't want to believe that. So, we went out to look for a key-maker. However, the shops were closed for such things. When I came back, I was firmly decided on what to do.

I would drill my way back into my bedroom! So, I got out my son's electric drill and started in on it. It was late at night, so, not wanting to keep the kids next door awake, I decided to postpone it until the morrow.

Next morning, bright and early I started drilling! I'd never held a drill in my hand before and it gave me a feeling of power. Not much power, mind you, but some. At first all I could get was a little hole, so I switched bits for a larger one. Then, it broke off when I pulled it sideways.

Lesson number one: You can only drill in one direction at a time!

The door was almost as thick as the bit was long. And what a lot of wood came out! Sawdust started flying everywhere. I took a break after an hour. My hands were getting a bit stiff already.

When I went back at it, another bit broke. I started feeling intense about the operation, seeing the hole getting bigger and bigger. I started saying things like,

"Have at 'er!" and "Let's get 'er done!"

The sawdust was piling up. So were the tools at my feet: a file, hammer, pliers, wrench, and a box full of bits, etc. I was determined to get through that door. Everything important to me in the whole world was behind that door! There was my Passport, for one thing; all my money, clothing, shoes, bank cards, mobile phone and ID.

After 3 1/2 hours, I finally made a hole big enough for my hand to fit through! I turned the knob!

The door wouldn't open! My friend was right! It wasn't locked. But, man, was it jammed. I could see my cell phone sitting on the bed and my wallet teasingly close, but I could not touch them. More determined than ever, I continued to drill, in spite of the growing ache in my back and the open cuts developing on my fingers. I knocked the knobs out with the hammer and they fell on the floor. Still the door would not open.

Holy cow. Who makes door knobs like this? Come on.

After a while, I bared enough wood between the frame and the plate that held the tongue so that the plate fell off, finally releasing the tongue. The door opened. Victory. I got my life back.

By now, there was sawdust everywhere. It was in my hair, up my nose, all over my face and neck and spread thinly over the living room furniture. 

My door looked like a rat chewed it. In fact, more like a few rats "had at 'er". 

Don't tell the landlord.