Zieh Fix: Video Review for The Ultimate Tool to Break a Lock
October 20, 2022
Call Out
September is almost gone in Europe. Holland never have it great, or rarely it is. Yes, the weather. Sunshine and warm winds are history of the past August and fun and games are over. There’s still the odd sunny day out every once in a while but not very often. The Netherlands was never known for its rolling golden hills, olive trees and vineyards. Red wine is not our main export. Nah. The Netherlands is rain and wind, frost and clouds, rain and muddy roads, bicycles and water. I have to say, global warming did much good for our weather. But anyway, not your sunshine coast. What is that to do with me? Well, as locksmiths we spend much of our time outdoors. And so are our locked out clients. And then, the phone rings.
Out of the airport
The call came in from Dan in Schiphol as he just landed in Amsterdam airport and, obviously, needed a locksmith. Apparently Dan landed and received a phone call from the owner of the airbnb property he was about to stay at. The owner was on his way for a vacation in France and he forgot to leave the house key in Amsterdam in the key safe. So Dan was locked out of the apartment before he even got to the door. So we got a call. When the address came as the Brouwersgracht at the Jordaan area, I was 20 only minutes away. Jumped in the car very quickly and go, go, go. The car was swiftly travelling on wet road. The stones slippery. The wind cold. Cyclists were crossing the busy streets of Amsterdam right left and centre. The sun was setting down and the darkness creeping. Dan called again to confirm he’s on an Uber and will be at the address shortly after me. It was almost dark when I parked the car in-front of his place.
Bring it
A black Uber Tesla glided silently and parked on the other side of the street. Them electric cars, I was thinking, the world is stepping into the future. Dan came out of the back seat and the driver helped him with his bag. I straight away noticed that Dan was missing a leg and was moving very well on a Prosthetic leg. I introduced myself and we were walking towards the building. “What the hell?!” I heard him say behind me. “What’s happening?” I asked. “Look at this building!” So I looked. A classic Amsterdam typical building from the 16th century. Old, a bit crooked, narrow and tall. “What’s the problem?” “Its old, crooked, narrow and tall!” Ok, thought. Good observation. “I can not climb these stairs every time I get out! My apartment is on the second level and my leg will kill me!” Ahh ok. Sure. His prosthetic leg. It was already evening and impossible to find a room in Amsterdam on short notice. I was looking at Dan who seems to understand the same thing. “You know what?” He said. “Lets do it. Bring it!”
Up we go?
I was looking straight into the staircase. Looking up to be exact. It was wooden steep and narrow. The stairs were wrapped around the centre pillar going up in circles. I noticed for the first time in Amsterdam how every step can be on a different hight than the one before. Looking back at Dan, now I understood why this will be hard on him to practice every time he needs to get out of his rental. Going up and down them ancient Amsterdam’s steep steps. Dan said that he asked the owner is the place is accessible for a disabled person. The guy said it’s only on the first level, so no problem. A problem it was. Dan explained that having a prosthetic leg makes it hard on him to place it on surfaces like that. I said that with 2 full legs I straggle. The Brouwersgracht is a canal in the old quarter of Amsterdam. The buildings there were beer breweries at the time that supplied old
Amsterdam. The reason they are all near the water is that the breweries used the canal water for the beer at the time. Rough times. Dan looked at me. “What are you waiting for?” And we went in.
Up we go!
We stepped into the main foyer and faced the stairs. Dan was already making his way up struggling. I was behind him incase he falls. Suddenly, he stoped. He was looking to his right. So I looked there too. A laundry lift. Small and squared, but a lift. In the old days that lift used to carry grain bags into the storage in the attic. Now it’s been converted to a laundry lift. I was looking at dan. He looked at me. We looked at the lift. “Is it too small?” He asked and looked at me. “You mean for your bag?” I asked him, and right then the penny dropped. “You mean you?!”. I was processing it all. “Yes me, who else? My grandma?”. Ok. “Theres only one way to find out right?” I replied. I didn’t blink and Dan was already squeezed in the tiny lift waiting to launch. “I will see you upstairs”. He while the lift door slowly closed on him. I was looking at the lift’s closed door for a split of a second before shooting myself upstairs. “Dan? Dan!” I was shouting at I was basically running up them steep, narrow slippery Woden stairs. “Dan? Dan!”. No answer. I got to the door huffing, puffing and sweating. Dan was standing at the door waiting for me. All straight up, playing with his phone, like noting happened. “That went well.” He said. “Can you get me in now?”
Another day of work in Amsterdam
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