Magnetic locks and murder
Magnetic locks are a pain in the arse.
There’s a golden rule at work. If you are the last to leave, then when you lock up you need to turn off the magnetic security lock on the front door or it will still be on when you come back in the morning, and the only switch to deactivate it is on the inside of the door frame.
Guess what I forgot to do when I was the last person who left on Tuesday night? Yep, I didn’t turn off the mag-lock, which meant that Wednesday morning we ended up with six members of staff outside the front of the bank, all taking turns to use a bent wire coat hanger to try and slip it in-between the door and it’s frame and then manipulate it to flick the switch and open the door.
Thirty minutes it took. And even after that, my idea of me never staying late again, which would prevent it happening again, fell on deaf ears. I guess you can’t win them all.
I’m looking forward to going out tomorrow night. We’re planning to stay local and were going to start drinking somewhere between the branch and the train station which is 100 metres away.
I’ve even got a pass from Mel to stay out late, even though she worries about any “danger” I could be in when I’m out.
Romford is not the nicest of places, but, of course, I’ve spoken to Mel and reassured her that things will be ok, and that’s it’s just a night out and there’s no need to worry. Then someone got murdered at 3 pm yesterday outside Romford station.
Looks like Mel’s worrying will increase ten-fold now.