Ah the joys of the Yale Lock....
Cast your mind back to November 30th 1995. St Andrews Day up here so off my mate and I toddle to the pub to sample of their finest beers. The Settle Inn in Stirling
Come chucking out time we toddle back down to my flat, my mate, Dave, is obviously too drunk to drive so he comes in and waits for his good lady picking him up to take him home. A few more beers are consumed whilst we wait on her arriving.
She duely arrives and takes my mate home, it's about 12.30am now. At which point I decide to go get flat on my bed, so drop the clothes where you stand and climb into bed.
I hasten to add at this point that I kept my pants on as I was too drunk to remove them.
Some time later, in the middle of the night, I start waking up, outside my flat, the door closing behind me, thinking... "It's OK Dave will be back any minute and let me back in"
I had slept walked out of the house, only in my pants, and obviously closed the door behind me.
As I start to wake up, well lets face it it's pretty cold.... I start realising that Dave will not turn up as its God knows what time in the morning and he's tucked up in his kip some 10 miles away.
Finally as I'm by now wide awake I realise the utter doo doo that I'm now faced with. I contemplate two options....
1. Run down to the bottom of the flat, phone the operator to call the police to let me have a cell for the night.
2. Walk the three quarters of a mile to a mates house and hope that whilst doing so I don't get lifted by said coppers or mugged.
I opt for the second choice. I finally arrive at mate number 2's house and to my utter suprise I see no one on route. Well it is God knows what time by now !!!. It was though pretty damn cold.
After taking 5 minutes to wake up mate number two and passing the complete torso doubling belly laughs eminating from him I finally hit his couch. In the morning he informs me I turned up not long after 3am
The moral of the story ladies and gents, never use Yale locks. They are indeed the work of Satan himself.
Keith