My Italian Hero

So I had my first traumatic experience today. I tried to open the front door to the apartment and it accidentally got locked from the inside. I have no idea how it happened. There is a latch on the inside of the door similar to what they have in hotels. It's supposed to only get locked when there is someone INSIDE the apartment, but somehow it flipped to lock when I was on my way out. Of course it's 5:30 pm and the management office with the English speaking staff is closed and Mat is not due back for another 2 hours. So I venture down to the security desk and try and explain via sign language that I am locked out of my apartment. After a good ten minutes of charades he finally gets it and we trek back upstairs where he unsuccessfully attempts to pry the door open with a plastic ruler. I am not too surprised and toy with the idea of taking my frustrations out on a glass of wine at the bar across the street. We go back down to the lobby where 3 maintenance guys show up and start shouting at each other in Chinese. I can only imagine what they are saying. I have a headache at this point so I take a seat in the lounge and watch the ultra hip fashionistas that co-habit my building parade in from work. Gosh, people really dress up here. I make a mental note to not wear my gym clothes so much...I must have looked rather pathetic sitting there, because I attracted the attention of an Italian gentleman who asked me if I needed some help. Of course I immediately gushed out all the grisly details of my evening. We exchanged names, and Vincent explained that this has happened to him as well. He was able to successfully jimmy the lock open with a credit card and saved me from the battling Chinese maintenance team. The kindness of strangers....Blanche was right.