why i like law and order

because i watched russian law and order and drank hot tea and shortbread sandwhiches filled with chocolates shaped like cupcakes and teddybears in the concierge desk while keeping tabs on the tenants and having my back repeatedly pat, of course.
last thursday (why thursdays; always thursdays) i jammed my key into the lock and twisted 20 times and nothing happened. and 50 and nothing happened. and im so tired and take off my shoes even though its socially unacceptable and 20 more times. and nothing happens. sometimes you just want to go home.
my phone is still in the hands of the police so i go down to the front desk and its the woman who asks me the same question everytime. and every time i apologize, and shes started saying "do you understand yet? yet?" and now i say "maybe tomorrow" but probably the wrong way because she just repeats herself and shakes her head. her hairs just like dorothy hammle.
so i ask for the phone. and she talks for like 30 minutes. the hard part: people dont use intonation when they ask questions, so its debatable whether they're asking you a question or not. "Can I, please? telephone?" it doesnt call the city just the apartment. she doesnt think i get it. i do. i get frustrated; im so tired and my feet hurt and i want my blankie. i want my blankie so bad i go outside and sit on the swingset for 5 minutes and cry a little bit. i feel just like a child. i go back in; i'll wait at the door until my family goes home. i can sleep in the hallway. i go in and she grabs my hand. we're gunna go find a phone that calls out she says. i dont wanna but she puts on her coat and bolts her office and scurries off, telling me to follow. then it starts pouring and we're going from building to building, mary and joseph, trying to find a phone. and i just kind of follow her like a little pet. a soggy pet whos a foot taller than her. i keep asking her where we're going. shes not exactly answering.
we give up. she brings me to her office and tucks me in on her couch. i tried to fight it but i just submitted and let her pat my head. she asks some mafia man entering the building with his wife if she can borrow the phone. he speaks a teeny bit of english. he gives me the phone and i call my family. they dont believe me. its a key; of course it opens the door stupid american girl; dont bother caalling once the key opens the door.
the don disappears. can you try the door concierge? i see her in the elevator go upstairs and disappear. i see the don and his wife come down. they bought art that day; a 5 or 6 foot tall oil nude. perfect. they wanna try. we go upstairs; the nude leans up against the wall. everyone gives it a try. then 20. "i have a friend. opens any lock in any safe in any bank. lives in the building over. he will fix this mess." not even 2 minutes he is there. he works his magic. and nothing happens. works it 20 times. no luck. he seems throughly disappointed.
back to the office. bad crime tv, snacks, tea, blanket and a lady with an auburn bowl cut. who pats my back. and reads trashy novels. and taps her foot to the law and order theme.