A night like never before...

I hardly ever post a blog, and now I’m posting several in a row. Luckily, I’ve had a lot of fun things to share. Loyal readers of this blog will remember that I like to be creative when coming up with titles for my posts, and are probably wondering, “Haven’t I used this title before?” That’s right. I used this title over 10 years ago, but now it has a whole different meaning. In 2015, I wrote with great sadness; now, I’m writing with a stomach ache from laughing.

Most Dutch people reading this blog today, June 30, will probably wonder what’s so special about it. That weirdo probably stayed up in the middle of the night to watch the Netherlands vs. Morocco and saw how the Netherlands got knocked out of the World Cup after losing on penalty kicks. Well, that’s true—partly, anyway. Yesterday, my friends talked me into throwing a soccer party at home. My friends have been egging me on these past few days with things like, “You have to make memories,” and “You’ll never experience something like this again.” And yeah, after a friend talked me into it, I gave in, even though I wasn’t sure if I’d actually have any memories to show for it. But, well, no sooner said than done. The alarm went off at 2 a.m., the guests arrived at 2:30, and the long match started at 3 a.m. So far, everything was pretty normal.

But anyway, I hadn’t planned on writing this blog post until the guests had gone home. One of the guests had forgotten to bring something. I wanted to slip it to her while she was still in the hallway, because, well, I figure most neighbors are still asleep at 6:15 in the morning. So I quickly ran down the hallway, but when I opened the door, a draft blew into the hallway, and because my window was open, the front door slammed shut. And there I was, standing in my socks without a cell phone, and without a key in my “¡CheerJacket!,” in the hallway.

There was no way that door was going to open on its own. Luckily, my friends were willing to wait, and someone else who lives nearby had the key. But, well, 6:15 is still a bit early to call someone and wake them up. I took a chance anyway, and luckily they answered. And they said they’d come bring me the key. I’m really grateful to them for that. But then, when I put the key in the door, of course it wouldn’t open—because I’d left the key on the inside of the door.

Well, what do you do then? To avoid waking the neighbors—and because it’s so incredibly hot in the hallway—we decided to go downstairs. We came up with the idea of calling a locksmith. But then again, that could cost you €500, if you don’t get scammed in the first place. And we, with our sharp wits, thought: “The window’s open—that’s why the door closed. Let’s call the fire department.” No sooner said than done. But when I called the fire department, that poor guy must have thought: “The soccer game just ended—you must be some kind of drunk.” Because he said, “No, we don’t help with that. You’ll need a locksmith for that.” I suggested again, “But the window’s open.” But the answer remained “no.” So what do you do then…

One of my friends had the most brilliant idea of the day (or should I say night?): “Let’s break down the door.” When we went back upstairs, I put the spare key in the lock and started pounding on it with my fist. And voilà. The door opened. It was a good thing I hadn’t drunk too many soft drinks that night, because otherwise I would’ve had to pee in the stairwell from laughing so hard. Because, yeah, I could pee standing up, but otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to get back into my house.

We said our goodbyes quickly, because, well, there was still work to be done. So I went to take a shower and have breakfast. After all, it was already 7 o’clock. I’ve never had so much fun so early in the morning. Even the daily adoration of the Blessed Sacrament was a bit of a struggle because I caught myself still chuckling in church.

I think this will be a fun memory to look back on. And as they said on the NOS World Cup Breakfast show: “A lot happened last night.” That’s why this memory is now being added to the collective memory of this blog. If we ever develop Alzheimer’s or Korsakov’s syndrome later on, we’ll still be able to read back on what happened.