A la francaise

The key to my success

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When you have guests in a rental property, it is always a good idea to be there when they leave so they drive off smiling and thinking what a lovely polite host you are – and you can check that they haven’t trashed the place!  Obviously when their travel plans involve leaving at stupid o’clock in the morning I tend to trust to luck (and their security deposit!) and ask them to leave the keys in a safe place.  In the case of an apartment in Perpignan, that safe place is the letter-box in the main hallway.  There are 40 letter-boxes, arranged in 4 horizontal rows of 10, and mine is clearly marked as being the one on the top right of the set.  The system has worked perfectly except for 6 weeks ago when I found 27 items of junk mail but no keys.  I quickly got hold of the clients who assured me that they had posted the keys inside and they could not understand what had happened. 

Unfortunately I could.  When you open the letter-box there are 2 holes at the front and I could only guess that the keys had slid off the pile of junk mail, down a hole and into the box below.  Peering in I could see that it was full to the brim with junk mail so obviously belonged to an unused apartment –  so no chance of ringing the owner to ask them to open the box and check for my key.  My next option was to try to open it myself but none of my keys fitted and unfortunately I don’t carry safe-cracking equipment or a crowbar in my handbag. 

I then went upstairs to the apartment (I had the spare keys – I’m not completely stupid!) and panicked for a while, then had the brilliant idea of ringing the Concièrge.  10 minutes later he called back to say he had managed to get into the box below mine and yes, he had retrieved the keys!  I dashed downstairs and nearly kissed him – but he seemed happier to accept a bottle of red wine!
So that should be the end of the story, except I am ashamed to say that this week I found myself in exactly the same situation.  Yes I had followed his advice and stuck tape over the holes, but it was just normal sellotape and the apartment keys are quite heavy so unbelievably they had managed to unstick the tape and drop through again.  But even worse, they weren’t in the box below mine (which was wide open because ‘somebody’ had damaged the lock …).   Cue another urgent (and very embarrassing) call to the concierge who once again saved the day – the keys had somehow dropped all the way down into the 3rd row of boxes!  He accepted my effusive gratitude and several euros, and also very kindly lent me a big roll of orange gaffer tape and some scissors.  I hope never to have to call him out again, but who knows …

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