At last, the key copying saga
You know I have issues with security (security as in protecting possessions, not self-esteem). It's very strange, as this has only been true of my adult life. I remember in my parents' house growing up there was a door between the cellar and a small extension my father had built. The door didn't have a lock, didn't even have a knob, just a metal bar thrust across it with a wedge of wood stuck underneath making the bar immovable. However, in the cellar on the wrong side of this door was a largish window built so low to the ground even I could have stepped through it. Would have been the work of a moment to smash it and enter the house, and doubtful any of us would have heard it two stories up.
I guess it says something about either the time period or being in a small Connecticut town that we never had an issue, and it never occurred to us to worry about one. Still, to this day I have dreams of being in a strange house and obsessively running around locking windows and doors.
Living next to an ex-meth lab has done nothing to help this neurosis. Remember, that was what prompted me to invest in a super special Medeco "bump-proof" lock a few years ago. Unfortunately last weekend Tery lost her key (we only have two) while running in the park.
I'm mean and I made her go back out to find it, but it had just started snowing and two inches had landed by the time she reached the most likely spot.
Medeco keys are very special indeed. I've never tried to have copies made, but I always assumed I would just need to order it through the website. The set came with a key card, and I thought that was its purpose.
Of course I was mistaken. Medeco keys can only be copied by specially authorized locksmiths, and of the few listed on the website in my area, fewer still actually carried the blanks. I finally tracked one down on Broadway who said it would be worth a try to come in.
I did this even though it was Tery who lost the key. I guess I felt partially responsible for insisting on such a complicated lock.
The first problem was that the locksmith was no longer at the Broadway location, and thank god for smartphones that let me go back and find their number, and for Google Maps for showing me the way because the directions the girl gave me when I called assumed I was intimately familiar with the area and lacked any helpful descriptors like "east" or "west."
But I found them, a hole in a strip mall wall that looked like a nightmare to inventory (stacks of decrepit boxes to the ceiling they hadn't unpacked yet, disarray everywhere you looked except the key blanks hanging by the hundreds) -- god help me, five years since I left and I'm still thinking like an auditor.
They couldn't cut it (haha, double meaning apparent in 5...4...3...2...), but they called another shop who could. I was beyond thrilled. I only had to leave the key card, which contained a 10-digit alpha-numeric code that would guide the cuts. Fancy schmancy.
It wouldn't be ready until Tuesday, which I did not have off and they closed at 5 (madness. Unless it's a ploy to increase the odds of their services being needed after business hours, mo' money, mo' money). I said Tery, whose fault this all was anyway, could come back and get it.
Which she did, but was a little put out when she arrived at 4:45 only to be told the keys were still at the other shop a few blocks away, leaving it up to her to hustle over herself (she needed to call me for guidance -- these people have ZERO direction skills).
Naturally, the copy didn't work and she had to go back the next day. I called them and asked if she should go to the first shop (who took her money) or the second shop (who actually did the work). They said the first. When she arrived, they sent her back to the second. Clearly organization and thinking ahead are not this shop's forte.
They finally admitted they couldn't help us (and once again Tery's money was out floating in limbo waiting for a refund). So I called Medeco hoping they could tell us where to try. They could; unfortunately our choices were Boulder, Avon and Breckenridge, all 1+ hours away one way -- and that's assuming there would be no problems and no return trips necessary. A brand new lock it was then.
I looked back on eBay, ever hopeful. Medeco locks were all over $100, which they probably were the first time too; to think, I once had over $100 to fritter away on a fancy industrial lock. Well, Tracey still lives next door, though she's been very quiet (too quiet?) She's not the only Big Bad -- last month there were a couple of midday break-ins reported in our neighborhood.
So the next cheapest choice seems to be made by Kwikset. Also bump-proof, and had the benefit of being sold in an actual hardware store. Bet you don't need to join the Masons to get a key copied either. It's much prettier but, I'm not going to lie, feels like a Barbie Dreamhouse accessory compared to the Medeco -- weighs about 3 pounds less. Ah well. Will probably increase my window-locking dreams a bit.
I guess it says something about either the time period or being in a small Connecticut town that we never had an issue, and it never occurred to us to worry about one. Still, to this day I have dreams of being in a strange house and obsessively running around locking windows and doors.
Living next to an ex-meth lab has done nothing to help this neurosis. Remember, that was what prompted me to invest in a super special Medeco "bump-proof" lock a few years ago. Unfortunately last weekend Tery lost her key (we only have two) while running in the park.
I'm mean and I made her go back out to find it, but it had just started snowing and two inches had landed by the time she reached the most likely spot.
Medeco keys are very special indeed. I've never tried to have copies made, but I always assumed I would just need to order it through the website. The set came with a key card, and I thought that was its purpose.
Of course I was mistaken. Medeco keys can only be copied by specially authorized locksmiths, and of the few listed on the website in my area, fewer still actually carried the blanks. I finally tracked one down on Broadway who said it would be worth a try to come in.
I did this even though it was Tery who lost the key. I guess I felt partially responsible for insisting on such a complicated lock.
The first problem was that the locksmith was no longer at the Broadway location, and thank god for smartphones that let me go back and find their number, and for Google Maps for showing me the way because the directions the girl gave me when I called assumed I was intimately familiar with the area and lacked any helpful descriptors like "east" or "west."
But I found them, a hole in a strip mall wall that looked like a nightmare to inventory (stacks of decrepit boxes to the ceiling they hadn't unpacked yet, disarray everywhere you looked except the key blanks hanging by the hundreds) -- god help me, five years since I left and I'm still thinking like an auditor.
They couldn't cut it (haha, double meaning apparent in 5...4...3...2...), but they called another shop who could. I was beyond thrilled. I only had to leave the key card, which contained a 10-digit alpha-numeric code that would guide the cuts. Fancy schmancy.
It wouldn't be ready until Tuesday, which I did not have off and they closed at 5 (madness. Unless it's a ploy to increase the odds of their services being needed after business hours, mo' money, mo' money). I said Tery, whose fault this all was anyway, could come back and get it.
Which she did, but was a little put out when she arrived at 4:45 only to be told the keys were still at the other shop a few blocks away, leaving it up to her to hustle over herself (she needed to call me for guidance -- these people have ZERO direction skills).
Naturally, the copy didn't work and she had to go back the next day. I called them and asked if she should go to the first shop (who took her money) or the second shop (who actually did the work). They said the first. When she arrived, they sent her back to the second. Clearly organization and thinking ahead are not this shop's forte.
They finally admitted they couldn't help us (and once again Tery's money was out floating in limbo waiting for a refund). So I called Medeco hoping they could tell us where to try. They could; unfortunately our choices were Boulder, Avon and Breckenridge, all 1+ hours away one way -- and that's assuming there would be no problems and no return trips necessary. A brand new lock it was then.
I looked back on eBay, ever hopeful. Medeco locks were all over $100, which they probably were the first time too; to think, I once had over $100 to fritter away on a fancy industrial lock. Well, Tracey still lives next door, though she's been very quiet (too quiet?) She's not the only Big Bad -- last month there were a couple of midday break-ins reported in our neighborhood.
So the next cheapest choice seems to be made by Kwikset. Also bump-proof, and had the benefit of being sold in an actual hardware store. Bet you don't need to join the Masons to get a key copied either. It's much prettier but, I'm not going to lie, feels like a Barbie Dreamhouse accessory compared to the Medeco -- weighs about 3 pounds less. Ah well. Will probably increase my window-locking dreams a bit.