Sometimes, when it’s 9:30 at night and you realize that you accidentally left your Public Storage unit door wide open and the main gate has been locked, the office is closed/not answering and you’re in the process of moving your kids from their home of 14 years after a year where they both ended up having extreme (and frightening) stress responses to all the previous changes in their lives (but you have to move from the home otherwise your own stress response will lead to crippling depression) and now knowing your storage unit is wide open, you’re hysterically worried that all the stuff/mementos/artifacts from your life in said house will end up being ransacked by some asshole who’d rather take your beloved stuff and shit on it than leave such an opportunity unspoiled…
Sometimes, in these cases, YOU DO WHAT YOU GOTTA DO, drive your car up to the closed gate, climb on the car hood, pull yourself over the 8 feet spikes and run your ass down dark Public Storage alleys like a pissed off Mama Bear to shut the damned door. That is what you do.
Next day my muscles were sore and when the storage unit manager called to ask if I’d gotten the situation resolved—I’d left several panicked messages the night before—I said yes, and then he followed up with asking how happy I was with their service, at which point I thought about it and decided I was actually pretty happy. For there is no greater review I can give than my genuine gratitude for not arresting me.