FREE STUFF CONTEST .....

[JackNco]

This falls into category 3, but the funny part is its a bad cutomer and a good cutomer pair. Read, and you will see.........


Romstar

Im not wasting all that space but thats gotta be a winner!

[unjust]

first in background for both:

i spent several years as the technical director and resident lighting designer for a small theatre loosely affiliated with an ivy league school. the majority of our casts, directors and technical staff came from the school. we're talking almost everyone over 1500 sat, folks doing cutting edge research in everythign from hydroponics to ceramics for the space program and metalurgical analysis on mideival artifacts. disturbingly bright kids. my job was (in a nutshell) was to supervise advise and direct use of all things that were not people in the space. lights, props, scenery, fireescapes, etc. as the resident expert/important guy i'd often get invited to design scenery or lighting for various shows that were in the space.

the director and myself collaborated on teh scenic design for a play that involved amongst other things an "antique" looking door being locked and unlocked several times in view of the audience, bu actors carrygin an "antique" key. ok no biggie, i picked out a nice lever style lock at the local hardware store with a big old key and a big old ADA compliant decorative lever handle and stuck it in my box of things to install as the set was built.

teh set slowly moves from spike tape on the floor to various platforms and and walls.

day one: i'm in my office- stage manager walks in.
--uhm michael? there's a problem with the door
-the door?
--on the set?
-what's wrong? (i had just hung all of the doors on their frames, but nothing had knobs or catches of anysort. just doors on hinges.)
--it's stuck
-which one?
--the door
*sigh* off to the stage, and explain that even though there is no -KNOB- the door still works and they can use it for rehearsal. smiles all around.

day the second: i'm in my office. phone rings:
--uhmmm michael? i think the door is broken?
-broken?
--yeah we can't get it open.
- did you try the handle?
--yeah i can't get it to open, and the actors are stuck
- .... they can still go around the set right?
--oh. i guess. (off) hey guys go around
-i'll be down.
explanation follows as to pushind down on the big brass lever where the round knob would normally is will open the door.


day 3:
i discover on my morning clean up after rehearsal that the handle is a little limp.
i replace the now entirely rounded knob shaft with a new one, and replace the mild steel pin on it with a piece of drill stock in a newly drilled out hole in the new shaft. i fine tune to the -very- broad end of operability the catch plate and catch so that the door will catch when slammed (as it must be several times a show)

--hey michael?
-yeah?
--yeah. uhm there's a problem with the door.
-push the handle down?
--down?
-yeah.
--oh.

after the 3rd moon:
i give one copy of the key to the stage manager, two on the props table (for actors to carry around) and *chain* one to the set wall next to the door. explain to SM how lock works from both sides, watch her operate it, and watch 3 actors who deal with it operate it.
go to fix some lighting gear in the back.
--uhm...
-door broken?
--yeah.
-coming

they still had all of the keys, but -no one- in the theatre could operate them.

day the fifth, on which i loose patience
i arrive to the door knob loose again, and what appears to be someoen's attept to shim the door open with a hammer, followed by generous application of gaffers tape to prevent it from recatching. i decide to resolve the issue once and for all.
the lock mechanism is removed. the catch is replaced with a 2-way one so that even if they just pull on the door it'll open.

--hey michael? we can't get the lock to unlock.
-there is no more lock
--oh. ok. how will they use the keys?
-put them in the hole, turn them, it won't make any difference.
-oh. but it's locked now.
.....
turns out they'd managed to strip the knob post again.

day 6 final tech:
i remove -all- moving parts from the door, and use several chemical and mechanical methods to seize the handle onto the door, in a horizontal position and use several magnetic catches and some rubber to make it slamable, but still openable with normal pressure. i prep the lock parts as gifts for teh cast.

opening night 15 minutes to curtain:
--the door won't open!! the key is stuck in it!!!

yes even with NO means of operating -anything- they had managed to wedge the chained key into the keyhole (since they still had to carry the now useless keys) and open the door with it in and get the key stuck. apparently -one- actor had been able to deal with the door the entire time, and had been oblivious to the changes in the door, as they'd just used it as one would, until someone else opened the door from the "inside" with the key in the chain.

the second isn't as impressive, but still fun:
i'm locking up the shop for a directory w/o keys. instructions from across teh shop while i shut a few thigns down.

-just push the button on the dead bolt and it'll lock the front.
--what button?
-the one next to the knob on the deadbolt, slide it over or push a little
--i see a little circle
-press that or slide it right
--it won't go
-the one on the deadbolt?
--yeah i can't press it.
-the brass box with the t shaped knob, and the little brass button in the center?
--yeah, nothing happens
-not the door knob?
--no the deadbolt, like on the front door
-yeah. try wiggling it back and forth some times it'll stick a little
--no
-sec... -gentle poke-spoink- huh seems ok
--i did that. how did you do that?
-guess it doesn't like you.

[BazookaMedic]

This is a story under the category of picking for someones benefit.

This is a story about a kid and his journey to lock picking and beyond.


There was this kid he was a star athlete, a straight a student in the eight grades, lived in a family of middle class, and was perfectly content with life. This particular person was a Good Samaritan. A friend of the people on the next farm over told me that their friend, a Widow and no children needed a couple of shingles to be replaced. This kid knew a sleet storm was coming so he went to fix it immediately. The widow was not home but he started anyway. He finished just as the sleet came down. Then something happened that changed his life—He slid off of the roof. He knew he was going down. He tried to stop himself by laying flat on the roof but the ice had already built up. He fell of the roof near head first. Then he saw a blinding white light and everything turned to a cold black. He rembers waking up in a local civil defense ambulance and having a bad headache. He tried to move and did so successfully. He checked himself for injuries and he tried to move his right arm. Hr screamed from the blistering pain, and passed out again. The next thing he knew he woke up in a hospital bed. He rembered everything sounded like he was underwater and his vision was blurry, but he came to very soon. The nurse said “Good to see you are awake, do you need anything?” The kid said, “What Happened where am I, and who are you? She answered his questions. She introduced herself as Leevie and I asked her if she could get me a sweet tea and an aspirin. . She told him not to look at his arm. He looked at his shirt and had seen blood all over it. His right wrist was pinned right and there was a large cut there, he noted there were bones sticking out of his arm. He got the tea but instead of aspirin she injected something that made him pass out again. When he woke up again a doctor was there and his arm and wrist was sewn up. His father was there his mother not as she had died when he was 7. His dad asked if He was o.k. but he was flying they had him pumped up on so many drugs so he just said im ok I think. He told me I would have to stay at the hospital a couple of days as I had lost lot of blood. He left and the doctor talked to me. He said, “You are lucky to be alive kid. You should have died from hypothermia and blood loss, not to mention you have a minor fracture in your neck.” The kid said, “Well dock how long was I out there and am I paralyzed?” He said He was out there for 30 minutes and was found soaking wet and bloody by that widow. And you are not paralyzed either. You got lucky kid. He left the room and the nurse brought some food back in. They did not feed him through s tube as he could still chew but he could not use forks, and knives. She was nice enough to feed him, which he felt was awkward afterwards. He went to sleep thinking about his future in football. The next morning he had to be spoon fed again. When the doctor came in he asked him about his future in football and to give him an honest answer. He said, “Kid you will never play ball again, you have no scayfoid in your wrist; have basically destroyed your entire ligament system relating top the scayfoid and your arm is bolted together. I’m sorry, but even with therapy you’ll never play again.” The kid said, “Well sir, I was going to be ridng on athletic scholarships for college now what m I going to do?” The doc said, “You can sort it out. Your shooting coach also came by to see you. He talks very highly about your skills and adaptability. After a conversation with his shooting coach and lucky for the kid he was is a left handed shooter, he could still shoot competitions. After his shooting coach left the kid got lonely. She did her thing and left. She also said a locksmith was installing new hardware in the hospital and would hit my room in about 20 minutes. He just nodded; he new in one hour they were going to pump him up on morphine again and his arm was killing him. When the lock smith came by, he said, “Kid you’re in bad shape.” The kid said yeah now with these injuries I can’t play ball and won’t have that scholarship to college. The locksmith laughed and said kid before I started this business I was a chemical engineer. I made enough to retire through some of my patents. But I am a locksmith because I like it. I also couldn’t play ball in high school ‘cause of my right arm to. He then showed him a scar on both his wrist and arm where they had done surgery. He said he worked as an apprentice to a “Locky” to pay for college. He said I could do the same. The lock smith finished his job and then the kid couldn’t resist asking him, “Sir Can you teach me how to pick locks and all.” He looked back and smiled. He said you bet I will and I was wondering when you’d ask. The next day he brought by a packet for him, It was called, “The MIT guide to lock picking” He told me to read it and he would be by at lunch. I read it and noted everything it said. When he came back at lunch he snuck in a chocolate milkshake for him and pulled up a chair and had two locks. And a small black case he pulled out of his pocket. He then picked both of them for him using another larger set. He said its not that hard kid it just takes determination and visualization skills like you have. He taught me about tension, some of him basic pick types and sheer lines, pins, and what not. He then handed me a half diamond, a shallow hook, and a twisty tension wrench. He handed me a master lock number 3 which the kid still has today, and said pick this lock and you get to keep the entire pick set in that little black case. The kid started and had trouble keeping tension on the wrench due to his injury. He held the pick in his left hand and used his right fingertips to hold the tension wrench. He started in the back just like the lock smith said. He started moving the half diamond up and down the lock trying to find the “Binding pin” He found it. It was pin number four. He pushed it up and down. He then felt the pin get easier to push up. He asked the locksmith about it. He said well you set your first pin now finish the lock up. I finished in about another 50 seconds. The kid distinctly rembers feeling the tension wrench move and turning it so the lock opened. It is a feeling the kid will never forget. It was a feeling of accomplishment he was on top of the world. The lock smith said, Kid that was fast for a beginner with a messed up arm. You have a skill for this. He gave him the lock picking set. It was a SouthOrd MPXS 20 kit. The lock smith told him to practice daily and left both of the locks. He also left both locks which the kid still has today.

This kid is known as the BazookaMedic here on lockpicking101.com. I can say that this lock smith changed my life. When I thought that all was lost he showed me a better way. Just like in lock picking, there is always a different way. More importantly he gave me something to hold on to. A new skill that I have refined over 2 years. He also gave me the ability to discover a confidence in my “new” self so to speak through that lock I picked. It has been two years since that fateful day; I am now a sophomore in high school, still a good student, and still learning more about the lock smithing trade. I have never seen that locksmith after that day, but I do know he left a lasting impression on me.

[Romstar]

I don't care if it's truth or fiction. Give Bazooka a hammer.

Excellent story.
Romstar

[FiapFiak]

Cool story bazooka is it true?
If yes, wow, really cool.

and rom... your story under category #3... wow, i had a laugh with that one...
just wow... break a window.... lol

[BazookaMedic]

100 percent true. The locksmith really changed my life. I would not be where or who I am today if it were not for him.

My vote is on Romstar saving his uncle.

[maxxed]

When I started in this career I worked for a large shopthat had a retail front end. One day a woman comes in an points to a Medico deadbolt and says " they can get in those". I asked who and she said , after looking around, "the mafia". How do they do that? She began to describe a pick gun as the tool and I informed her that it would work on all of the other locks on the display, but not that one. She told me that I didn't know anything and that she wanted to talk to someone else about an alarm system.
I had no problem with that so I got the alarm salesman down and he consulted with her. Later that day he went to her house to do a survey and when he came back he walked up to me and said " don't ever do that again".

What?

Call me to talk to such a @#$^^&&* nut case that just wastes my f$&^ing time. When I got to her house the first thing I thought was I'm not going to ask?

Ask what?

Why the inside of the exterior walls were lined with tinfoil.

You're not seious?

Yes he was serious and she claimed it was to keep out the scanning rays from the mafia. They used the scanning rays to look for things before they broke in and ate all the lettus in her fridge. They also broke into her garden shed and smashed the wheels on her lawn mower.She claimed that she knows for certain that they are doing this because one day she fell asleep on a chair with her head back and her mouth was open, this allowed the radiation from the scanning rays to burn her gums. This part happened in 1980 and I still get a good laugh out of it

Several years later my wife was working for an architect who was designing a housing project and this woman came in to inspect the plans and gave her name. My wife, having heard the story, recognized the name and had to refrain from making any statements about building walls with tinfoil inside them
this is a true story, tomorrow I hope I have the time to tell you about some of the other challenging / interesting people I've encountered

[devildog]

Unfortuantely, there was no toilet paper. In there was one of those tp dispensers where you need to unlock a lock and manually change the roll. The lock was a small Abus that I easily unlocked with my pick set that I was carrying. I changed the roll, re-locked the lock, finished up, and then I was on my way.

+1

Except it was at Starbucks, it was a dinky wafer cam lock, and I used my Bogotas which I always have on me. I just will NOT apologize for that one--when you've got s#*$ on your #$% and the only available tp is secured with a dinky wafer lock, well...screw it!

[Romstar]

This falls into category 3, but the funny part is its a bad cutomer and a good cutomer pair. Read, and you will see.........


Romstar

Im not wasting all that space but thats gotta be a winner!

I swear to god, thats not fiction. That actually occured to me about two years ago now. Good thing it was summer time.

Romstar

[n2oah]

Unfortuantely, there was no toilet paper. In there was one of those tp dispensers where you need to unlock a lock and manually change the roll. The lock was a small Abus that I easily unlocked with my pick set that I was carrying. I changed the roll, re-locked the lock, finished up, and then I was on my way.

+1

Except it was at Starbucks, it was a dinky wafer cam lock, and I used my Bogotas which I always have on me. I just will NOT apologize for that one--when you've got s#*$ on your #$% and the only available tp is secured with a dinky wafer lock, well...screw it!

You are such a story theif!
Well, there was another time where I had to unlock that 3KS to get at the tp, but the tp was in another dispenser with an Abloy Protec on it. After I unlocked the Protec with a few paperclips I found in the toilet, I finished up and found a sheet of $100 bills within the tp. Did I mention that this was in the security level 5 underground bathroom of the White House?

[jgencinc]

This one time at band camp, we were all trying to outdo each other with crazy stunts. Well I decided it would be crazy to lock the shackle of a padlock around my nuts. Seeing as I was a little drunk at the time, I never thought about needing a key to get the lock off.

The local locksmiths laughter and teasing did not help. The outrageous "emergency" prices weren't going to cut it. I was broke. The lockies all scoffed at the mention of beer as payment.

I decided I would get the lock off myself. I got a hacksaw and hacked away. I hacked and I hacked. After what seemed like forever, I had barley made a scratch in the shackle. This was not going to work.
I then thought about when rings get stuck on your fingers! BUTTER! I lubed myself up nicely, confident that it would work. Not a chance, this lock was going nowhere.

After wracking my brains for a while, I thought maybe I'll try picking it. I had no clue about picking, but I saw how easy it was on T.V. Surely I could do it. I got out my trusty laptop. Typed in lock picking in google. Low and behold Lockpicking101.

I read DB's tutorials, looked at Zeke's templates, read shrub's guides, and wondered WTF jason13 was babbling about. After a couple tries on the camp's grinding wheel, a shiny set of bogotas.
One swipe, two swipes the shackle opens and I cry out "FREEDOM!!! Glorious freedom. Thank you LP101 for my FREEDOM!"

After many hours locked up in a way no man should ever be, I could not be sore that the girl with the flute outdid my stunt.

[Romstar]

Anything that begins with, "One time at band camp....." is always fiction.

Still, I thought the ending was funny. As was the idea of grinding picks with your private parts jammed into a padlock hasp.

Funny at least.
Romstar

[Exodus5000]

As with most stories, the true ones are usually the most entertaining but at the same time the hardest to believe. Some of you may remember a bit about this incident that occurred about two years ago, and if any of them are here I’m sure they can vouch for the accuracy of the following events.

The summer of 2004 was a hot one in north-eastern Wisconsin where I was working at a Hotel Resort doing what I typically described to others as “peon work.” My daily tasks generally involved building the various structures needed for resort events that went on during that summer. I found myself trying to put in as much overtime as possible to maximize the down payment I would put on my college tuition that year.

I come from a small town, but like any town crime waves come and go. One night I was walking to my car after putting in a particularly laborious day at work. In my weary state, I sauntered forward with my head down and my attention thoroughly focused on the hot meal and shower that awaited me back at Exodus5000 manor. As I reared the usual corner into the parking garage where company employees are required to park, something seemed different. It was like I sensed them before I could see them, and the hair on the back of my neck went up. I raised my eyes towards the movement that was approaching me, and my head followed my eyes up in succession. As my eyes drew level with the figure moving to my left side I realized that it was too late.

The gloved fist of the figure struck the tip of my nose snapping my head back with an audible crack like a leather belt being snapped. I didn’t need to wait to get to the hospital to realize my nose had been broken. The generous quantity of blood streaming down my face sufficiently elucidated that fact. As my head snapped back the blood from my broken nose flew back and landed on the concrete wall behind me leaving a nasty Rorschach pattern. Now, dear readers, I realize that what I’m describing is the result of one punch, but this punch was the epitome of sucker punches. It was the kind of punch that rattles the very foundation of your bones because you have no time to react. And it didn’t stop there.

The laws of gravity are hard ones, and so was the concrete floor of the parking garage I currently found myself in. I dropped to my knees and instinctively put my hands to my face holding on to the warm buzzing sensation of pain. It only took one more hit, and this one too I never saw coming. Even if I didn’t have my hands over my face, it wouldn’t have mattered. Dark figure number 1 had a friend – dark figure number 2. And dark figure number 2 decided it was time to show his worth. He positioned himself behind me and slightly to my right side, and with one swift kick the tip of his shoe made contact with my zygomatic arch, which is the little piece of bone between your temple and your eye. Lights out, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars, proceed directly to screwed-ville.

I could talk about the hours I laid on the floor before getting help, I could talk about the process of picking bone fragments from my skull, I could talk about the frustration of canceling credit cards and tracking down everything else the two muggers had taken from me, which included a set of Southord picks I had at the time. But none of that is in the scope of this story, and this story is already wearing on a little long. All you need to know is the nice twist that happens at the end of this story.

Two years later, that is, just this last summer I got a call to open a car (I’d gone through the work to get the certifications necessary to be a legitimate locksmith by this time.) I arrived at the automobile and used the customers trunk key (that’s boot key for you European folks) and opened the trunk. Now without getting into too much Advanced Section material, I was going to go through the trunk with a tool to open the car, but to my surprise, there in the trunk of this guy’s car, was a set of Southord picks. Surely many people own Southord picks, it’s entirely possible it could be a coincidence, but the clincher for me was when I saw my old wallet next to the set of picks.

I told the guy I had to go home and get another tool. I took the information I had him sign before I worked on his car (which includes the license plate number and his signature) and called a local cop I know in town. The cop met me at the now curiously nervous customer’s car, and after a few minutes of talking, the customer was richer one new pair of handcuffs, and I was richer 1 wallet (with ID even) and 1 set of slightly used Southord picks.

[starfishblue]

exodus.. that is one great story man.
i'm sure the look on his face would be priceless.

[jimb]

This is true. How about catagory #1 although #3 could be a possibility.

About a week ago I had a call dispatched to unlock a house. The info said a friend would be there with proof of residence and for payment. This concerned me and after calling was told that the owner would be there but a friend was paying.

After arriving to the home which was a $500,000+ residence I found no one there. I called the callback number and was told by a lady that she could be there in 5 minutes. She then proceeded to tell me that it was a friends home and that her friend was on her way to Colorado and that she thought she had left her curlers plugged in.

This concerned me and she said she would call her friend on her cell phone and I could talk to her. I told her I had no way of knowing who I would be talking to but this was what I would do. I told here I would open the house, we would go in together, unplug the curlers and then leave with me locking up and she agreed.

I then took a look around to see where I wanted to enter. The house had 4 outside entry's. 3 had locked storm doors and one had 2 locks. I decided I would enter through the door with 2 locks that were on the back of the house since they were both Kwiksets.

As I walked around to the front of the house I noticed a neighbor in his yard across the street. I decided it might be a good idea to go talk to him. He was aware that the owner was out of town and also informed me that the police department had just left. They had tried to open the house and could not. Now I felt better about entering the home.

The friend arrived and I proceed to open the house. As I was working on the door she said she would have to make a run for the alarm system after I got her in. Door opens, alarm goes off and she makes a run into the house.

She proceeds to find the curlers when the doorbell rings. It's the police department, apparently she did not get to the alarm quick enough, luckily it was the same officer that had tried to gain entry before I had arrived.

After failing to find the curlers she calls her friend to find our where they were. After a few minutes of discussion she remembers she had packed them up and taken them with her

Females