It was at that moment of deep self-loathing did a handy piece of information come to mind. I whirled around, my eyes scanning the contents on the ground before picking the one thing I'd been searching for - a paper clip. I always carried a couple around with me ever since the day I'd been locked in the janitor's closet at school (courtesy of some bullies whose names I replaced with foul-mouthed curses in my brain). That experience had been a bad one but at the end of the day, the paperclips I'd found lying on the ground were my key out the situation.
Standing up, I walked over to the front door and did a quick scan of the neighborhood. Luckily for me, no one was around. What I was about to do would look real suspicious and I didn't want to get caught in the act, even if it is my home I'm 'breaking into'. Crouching down on the ground, I got cracking.
After making the paperclip lock-pick ready, it took only a minute. A little jamming here, a twist there, insert second paperclip, maneuver downwards, wait for the click sound. Click. Just a little bit harder and- Click.
I reached out and grasped the handle, pushing it down. The door creaked open, welcoming me home. Grinning to myself, I muttered a congratulatory, 'You still got it, James', gathered up my scattered belongings and finally entered the house.
The next thing I wanted to pick my way into was waiting for me upstairs, plopped on my bedside table. And boy, was I looking forward to that adventure.