| I started locksmithing 15 years ago. I work for a small 2 man operation in Milwaukee, WI. Over the years what I have learned is that the actual work is far easier then dealing with the public. These are the stories of my many adventures working in this industry. As you read you will find many of these stories to be unbelievable......but trust me, they are all true. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| If you have any questions about locksmithing, how to get keys for a lock or any general lock questions feel free to email me [email protected] or visit securitypluslocksmith.com |
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| My favorite one-liner | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| I'm on my way to a job site when my cell phone rings. It's my boss telling me that an elderly couple had just returned home from shopping and realized they had locked the house keys in thier home. He warned me that she was very jumpy and quite in a fit about it. I jotted down the address and made my way over to the location. It was a really nice warm day and I had my windows down and the stereo going as I pulled up. Before I even shut the engine off, I could see the old woman waving me down as if she didn't even realize I had just parked, and started shouting to me. I shut the car off and got out. She started to make her way across the street and asked if I was the locksmith. I of course said yes and opened the trunk to retrieve my tools. I met her half way across the street and we started walking back towards the house. She had to have been in her late 80's and walked very slow. I got to the door and as I opened my toolbox, she started going into some kind of spat..."I am so glad you are here, I'm so worried we wont be able to get back into the house." "Are you sure you will be able to get us in?" "I can't belive I did this" "Iv'e NEVER locked my self out of the house in my WHOLE LIFE!" I stopped what I was doing, looked up at her and said......"Boy,...... that's a real shame..............and you only had a few years to go.......... | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Smoke 'em if ya got 'em | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| It was a very warm, sunny day in June. Three of us were in the shop discussing this and that, my boss, myself and a guy who we call to do special viechle work that we dont usually do. The guy really knows his stuff. He's the man you would take your car to when someone breaks into it and tears up the dash board or colum. He's a wizard at this sort of work. After a few minutes of discussing shop, I noticed a car pull into the parking lot. As my boss and the wizard continued shooting the shit, I walked around the counter in order to greet the customer who was walking in. The door opened and a young woman walked in. She looked about 23 or 24 years old and was dressed to accomodate the hot weather. I asked what I could do for her. She told me that the Grand Prix she owns is having a drivers side door problem. She continued to tell me that as of a few days ago, she found she could'nt open the door from the outside or inside of the car. I told my boss I was heading outside to take a look at her car. I grabbed a can of lubricant and headed out following her outside. I tried the outside handle and could feel the the linkage was connected. I tried her key in the lock and it turned just fine. I entered the car from the passenger side and tried to open it from the inside. Linkage was connected but no succes. I sprayed the lubricant down into the door thinking that the latch has corroded. Still nothing. Scratching my head I went back into the shop and asked our car pro to take a look and see if he could preform some of his magic for me. He agreed and followed me out. He tried all the options I did earlier and I watched as he looked at the car with the same scratch to the head. After a few moments he asked me to stand in front of the drivers side door and then he crawled in through the passenger side. He insrtucted me to pull up on the outer handle and as I did he laid across the front seats on his back and put his feet up against the inside of the door and started to push up agaisnt it Push...release....push....release the car started to rock back and forth. The girl was standing about 3 feet behind me and asked if we were going to be able to find the problem. As she finished her sentence the door flew open and the sound of metal went ringing down the driveway. I slowly turned towards the girl with a look on my face that can only be described as "oh shit, we broke something." I started walking towards where the object came to a rest, the woman following close behind. As we approched the mystery item. We both noticed the bright sun shinning off what seemed to be a piece of metal. I slowly reached down and grabbed it. As I started to rise, I realized what this thing was. I took one more close look at it before I turned to reveal to my surprise and hers, I marijuana pipe. As soon as her eyes came into focus on it, she put her hand over her mouth and declared "Oh my God! That must be my boyfriends!" Holding back the laughter the best I could, I handed her the pipe and told her "no charge." As she quickly got into the car and drove off, I thought to myself......well, that's the last thing I ever thought I would find stuck in the door of a car....... |
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| Tears of a Moron | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| I'm working on a lock when a call comes in. After hearing the voice on the other end, I soon realise I should have let voice mail get it. I've had many dealings with the guy on the other end. He works in maintainance for a moving company downtown. This company also has many facilities that are used for storing items owned by other company's. Sort of a public storage for big corporations. Everything from medical equipment to cars and jewlery. This guy (I'll call him "jim") tells me he needs a service call to one of his locations to work on a vault door. I ask if the vault was locked up or if it was open, he said its open. Good, leave it open and I'll stop on down later to get you a combination for it, I tell him. After a few scheduled jobs, I make my way downtown to the main building of this place to meet him. I walk into the building and tell the secretary my business. After about ten minutes Jim finally shows up. He's an old guy about in his late 50's. He walks slower then he should and dosent complete work on a very timely manner. Always wondered how he managed to keep his job. He tells me the vault is in the building across the street. We walk over and enter the front door. These places are about 100 years old . Floors made of wood planks, frieght elevators that use water hydrolic systems, and smell very musty. We make our way through pallets as far as the eye can see, trampeling through this warehouse. My tool box becomes more heavy with each step as I wonder if we'll ever reach this vault. We turn a corner to reveal a long hallway which comes to a dead end. There is very little light and its hard to make out anything. As we make our way down this hall, it suddenly becomes apparent to me that I cant make out any open doors. Now if the vault door is unlocked, it would only make sense that it's open so nobody would accidentaly lock it up. As we finally make it to the end of the hall, I put my tool box down and rub my arm from pain as I turn to see the vault door. The vault door that is closed! Before I even touch the door I ask Jim why it was closed. The answer I got sent shivers up my spine . "Well, says Jim, "after I talked to you, I came over here, closed the door, and spun the dial to see if the lock worked." I offen wondered if there were more than the "7 words you couldnt say on television" according to George Carlin.............there is. After screaming bloody murder in my head, I tried the handle to see what he had done. The handle turned and the door opened. Turns out that sometime in the past someone had removed the bar which operated the locking bolt....whew. I told him I needed to remove the cover from the back of the door and it would take me a while. He said fine and that he was going back to the main building to take care of some work. Even though I didnt believe him, I said ok and told him I'd come over there when I was finished. He left and I started on the grueling task of removing about 35 screws which held the cover on. Ten minutes later I was pulling this heavy metal cover off and set it on the floor outside of the vault. This was a fairly small vault. Walls were made of heavy brick and are covered with shelves. Nothing in it but dust and cobwebs. I tried to picture what it would look like once the customers stuff was inside. He is some big jeweler and wants to stash his big stuff there I geuss. I grab my screwdriver off the floor to start and take the lock off of the back of the door but before I start I notice something covering the lock I've never seen before. It was a long round piece of what looked like sheet metal covering across the back of the lock. After a few minutes of thinking about it I conclude that it must be some kind of "rig" job done by another locksmith to keep the lock secure to the door. This piece was held on by two very small screws, one on each end. I grab my small screwdriver out of my toolbox and losen the first screw till it falls out, and the proceed to the next one. I figured I would just let the screw fall out and let this thing fall to the ground but then thought it may make a loud bang and may startle someone in the building from the echo so I grab the piece before it has a chance to fall. As I started to set this piece on the ground I notice the back side of it feels real smooth....like glass. I turn it over to find the metal is gaurding what looks like a glass vial about 12" long and an inch thick filled with a clear liquid. What the hell is this? I thought. Then my face went sour as I remembered when I first started this job my boss told me about how manufacturers used to put tear gas traps in vault doors to deter break ins. Now it wasnt the fact that I was holding 25 oz. of tear gas that spooked me, it was the fact that my boss also told me about a theory locksmiths had that as tear gas gets older, it gets explosive. I wasnt sure I ever bielieved this story but this vault is like 100 years old and I wasnt takin the chance. I called the boss and he told me to find a dumpster to put it in. I didnt want to do that in fear a kid might find it so I decided to throw it off the loading dock onto a empty parking lot they had next to the building. I started to make my back down this hall when I looked down to find myself....I kid you not......tip toeing down this hall holding this thing like some kind of stupid cartoon. I understand that breaking this would cause me some harm, but to treat it like a bomb was just plain silly. I made it out to the loading dock with just a little sweat on my forehead. I checked to make sure I was downwind, wound up, and flung the tear gas as far as I could. The vial hit the pavement and I heard the crash of broken glass but no explosion. In retrospect, I kinda wish the theory was true.......and Jim was standing in that parking lot. |
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| 3,000 women....and I get this one | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| After a very long day at work, 5:00 never looked so good. I started to close up the shop when the phone rings. Never answer the phone just before closing is my moto. But, as it is my job I put my happy face on and answered. "Do you open cars?" an elderly woman asks with a hint of panic in her voice. We sure do I told her. She asked me to come out because she locked her keys in her car. I told her I'd be right there and asked where her car was at. Turns out she was at a all women's college. Sometimes answering the phone is'nt all bad. She told me she dropped her daughter off for class and locked the keys up. I told her where she was at had like 5 different parking lots and after about 15 minutes we figured out which one she was parked in and away I went. As I pulled into the lot I saw her standing by the row of cars and drove up and asked if she was the one that called. She said yes and I parked a few spots down and grabbed my car opening tools. I asked her which car it was and she pointed to a older red sable. As I worked to get the car opened she told me the usual "ive never done this before, I feel so dumb" thing that everyone says and seemed to be in such a panic and was very upset about what she had done. The door opened and I packed up my tools and went to my car to get the bill. She paid me and I told her thanks, got into my car and started to pull away when I heard a scream "Oh my God!" I hit the breaks, got out of my car and asked her what was wrong. "This isnt my car", she said "mine is the car next to this one." I geuss I could see how she could have made the mistake, after all her car was a blue 2 door grand am....which looks so damn close to a red 4 door mercury sable............ |
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| The curse of the safe | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| A man pulls up to the shop in a old pickup truck with a medium sized safe in the back. He walks in and explains that his father had passed away and left no combonation to it. I gave him a price to drill it open and he agreed. Most people dont really want the safe , just really want to see whats in it. This was a old safe made in 1903 back when safes were made solid. It wieghed about 250 pounds and had a beautiful painted eagle logo on the door and other hand painted scroll type markings. We lugged the safe into the shop and I got my drill and massonary bits from the car. We decided the best place to drill it and started our work. Thirty minutes later the door was open. As with most safes, nothing was in it accept velvet walls and oak shelving covered with felt. The safe was in such nice condition I started thinking I wouldnt mind having it for myself. I told the guy I would wave the fee for the safe and he agreed. Over the next few days I started to take the safe apart to clean and repair it. The lock was made of solid brass and the paint was pristine. After finishing what I could do with it I had to find someone who could weld the hole we had drilled in the door. I remembered one of our customers did welding on the side and contacted him. He came and got the door and told me he should have it ready in about 2 days. He was a nice guy and knew his trade. I say "was" a nice guy because this was the start of the "curse". Not only did this guy weld, but he was a amature pilot. He had been flying for a few years before this. A few days later he returned with the door and wow what a great job. It didn't even look like it was ever drilled. I paid him and he went on his way.Over the next 2 weeks I reasembled the safe and just as I was about to finish, a customer of mine came into the shop for some keys. He asked me about the safe and I explained. He was very impressed with the safe and asked if I wanted to sell it. I told him no because I really wanted it for my house. He told me his wife would love it and left me his number. The curse continues. Patience, all will be explained shortly. So now the safe is done and I want to bring it to the house. I told my ex-girlfriend (well, shes an ex now thankfully, but thats a different curse) about the safe and she wanted to see it. So I took her to the shop. She took one look at it and said "there's no way in hell I want that thing in the house." Now being the dumbass that I was, I gave in and decided to sell it. I went through my papers and found the number of the guy who wanted it. On the phone we discussed price and I told him it cost me about 10 bucks to have it welded and had to add that to the price. He asked how I got the welding done so cheap and I explained this other customer to him. He was astonished to find this out for the guy who did the work was a friend of his. But then what he said shocked me. He told me that just two days ago he was doing some flying somewhere near the rocky's and had plane trouble and died in a crash. I couldnt believe it, what a horrible thing to happen to such a nice guy. Anyway, the guy paid me for the safe and told me his wife was going to love it and thanked me. During the next month I thought about that safe and the fact that 2 people that where involved with that safe are now dead. Coincidence yes, but still kind of wierd. The phone rings and its this guy who bought the safe. He says he's lost the combonation and needs me to look it up in my customer file. We normally dont keep customer combo's but he insisted. After giving him the numbers I asked why he did'nt just get the combo from his wife. He said........she passed away a week ago from a stroke and she never told me the combonation. I couldnt believe it, now three people all dead within a couple of months. Only a few short weeks after this my girlfriend and I broke up. We were together for a long time but she was so phsycotic, so wacko or to use the word I made up....Wackotic, I couldnt take it anymore. So on I went with my life. Then the thing I feared happened. The widower shows up at the shop one day. We started talking and when he found out that I broke up with the girlfriend, he says "well, I reallly don't need that safe anymore, and since yer ex is gone do you want it back?" I lied and said "uh....no I already have a different one sorry." He said ok and if I ever changed my mind or know of anyone looking for a safe to give him a call. To think that my ex being the wicked woman she was, may have saved my life by not letting me bring that safe home......oh shit what am I saying........I wonder if the ex needs a safe....now what did I do with her phone number???? |
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| She's scarey | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| One of the best ways to drum up some business is to start eating lunch. As you are enjoying your lunch people love to call you for work. This is also true when I just light up a cigarette. Im enjoying my sub sandwhich when the ring comes in. The woman on the other end sounds desperate. She explains that she would like to have some high security locks put onto her apartment door because the girl across the hall is picking her locks when she isn't home and stealing stuff from her. Now although in theory this is possible, I doubt a 14 year old girl has the skill to do something that took me years to master. I explain to her that there is a lock made that is pickproof and the keys are only supplied to our company so noone else can duplicate them. In fact, the company that makes it used to offer $15,000 to anyone who could pick their locks. Trust me, I sat around for hours trying to pick those locks and it cant be done. I give her a price and she agrees so I gather up my stuff and head over to her apartment building. She answers the door wearing a old robe and slippers. She's in her mid to late fourties and looks as if she has been up all night. I show her the locks and start to install them on her door. I finish and fill out the invoice and she pays me. A couple of days go by and just as I am taking the first bite of my Big Mac the phone rings (damn, I forgot to unplug that thing again). "these locks arnt working." I say "excuse me?" "You put these locks on my apartment door and that girl is still gettin in." Now putting two and two together I now know who this is. I try and explain to her that unless she gave someone a key nobody could get in. She insisted that the girl across the hall got in and wanted me to rekey the new locks. Giving up all hope of her being reasonable I made up some new keys and rushed over. She was very upset and I tried to make her understand the concept of these locks to no avail. I finished, she paid me, I left. Knowing how some of our customers can be, I dreaded every time the phone rang for the next couple of days. It's now Friday, I actually finished my lunch while it was still warm. And its 4:15. Yes home free. Riiinnnnggg Riiiinnnngggg. Please......no......let it be a simple car opening or a sales call. Shit, so much for getting home on time to start my weekend. "She's still getting in and I know how" she says. "Really? And how is that?" I reply. "Well, I was sleeping on my couch last night, and at about 2 a.m. the girl from across the hall came over...picked my lock.....reached into my pants pocket while I was wearing them....took the key out, drove down to the hardware store and had a copy made.....came back...put the key back into my pocket...then locked the door as she left with her brand new key. What can you do about this?". So I say "Let me get this striaght, you were sleeping but you knew what time she came in, she picked your high security locks that even a professional like me cant pick, she didnt wake you up when she reached in your pocket, she drove to a hardware store even though she's only 14 years old, and she found a hardware store open at 2 a.m. who made her a duplicate of a key that only our company has the blanks for?" Expecting to hear her say something like, yeah that dose sound kind of crazy, I instead hear...."Yup.....she's good, now what can you do about this?" |
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| Just another reason I'm a dog person | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| I have three pets, a dog, cat, and a ferret. The ferret is mine and the other two are my girlfriends. The dog is well manored and fun, and the ferret Iv'e had since he was a baby. Now the cat....well lets see. Sheding huge amounts of hair that always seems to end up on my clothes, the chewing of every wire in the house it can find, the constant meowing when its hungry.....let's just say the cat is number 3 on my list. Now after all these reasons why I dont care much for the cat, the straw that broke the camels back actually happened from a incident at a job I went to. People usually lock thier keys in the car when in a rush. The guy who calls me on this day is no exception. He explains to me that he was about to take his cat to the vet. He dosent use a pet carrier, he just puts the cat in the car to roam as it pleases while he drives. He gets in the car with the cat and forgets his checkbook in the house. He gets out of the car and when he reaches his backdoor he realizes he locked the keys in his car. So he called me from a nieghbors house. When I showed up at his house he was sitting on the hood of his car feeling very stupid. I set my tools on the ground and wedged the window from the door. As I look through my bag of tools, I notice his cat is in the back seat just starring up at me. I find the tool I need. Its called a "caddy killer". This tool is used by sliding it down past the window, then give it a little twist, and bring the end of the tool back up on the inside of the car and simply just hit the unlock button of the power locks. As I started to slide this tool down into the door, the cat jumped from the back seat to the drivers seat continuing his stare at me. I brought the tool back up on the inside of the car and made my way to the button. Just as I was about to unlock the car, the cat takes his paw and "thwack", he bats my tool away. I looked at the cat and smiled thinking to myself "awww...how cute". I repositioned the tool and went back for the button. "Thwack", again with the paw. I thought to myself "ok cat, it wasnt that cute". Again repositioned tool and went for button. "Thwack". "why you little son of a bitch", I thought. I stop what I'm doing and walk around to the back of the car and tap on the rear window to avert the cats attention. The feline heads into the back seat to investigate and I rush back over to the drivers side. With a proud smile on my face I went for the button and "thwack"...........forgetting the customer is standing right there I let out a "you fucker!". The customer starts to laugh and I told him we would wait for a few minutes. We sat and talked as I had a smoke and after about 5 minutes I noticed the cat had fallen asleep on the passenger side seat. I reached for my tool and slowly went for the button......"click". Ahhhhh finally. On my way back to the shop I thought about how lucky that cat was. If his owner wasnt standing right there, I would have opened that car and cashed his 9 lives in for him. |
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