Dear Shwarma Man,
Oh I tricked you last night didn't I?!! I didn't really have the words to explain to you what happened last night, but the thing was, I got home at 7pm after my Arabic class to find the metal door that we share with the beauty parlour closed. Now, Dima, the proprietor of said parlour doesn't usually leave before 7pm so that's why the metal door keys were inside our house, hanging up, as we thought we'd be home at a reasonable hour, and that she'd still be working.
My first thought to tackling this problem was climbing out the stairwell window, climbing up on an air-conditioner and then hoisting myself up over our balcony, like I did that time when Julie was here. But Shwarma Man, I was wearing nice clothes yesterday, and I didn't fancy them getting all destroyed by that adventure.
Then it struck me. You're related to Dima! You have the same last name!! I think you're her uncle right? So that's why I came down to your shop, to get her phone number. But you were so clever, Shwarma Man, you spotted me and immediately pulled out a small piece of round bread and started separating it and asking me if I wanted beef or chicken. Lucky I'd just learned how to say "I don't need" huh! So thanks for giving me Dima's phone number. Unfortunately, she was very far away, but at least she promised to leave the metal door open if she leaves before 7pm.
The problem was solved by a quick call to our landlord, who sent his son over with the spare key on a very small scooter that looked even smaller under his considerable heft. He struggled to find the right key for quite some time, and thought that if it didn't work one way vertically, that perhaps if he turned it 180 degrees it might work. I guess he doesn't understand keys and locks too well.
So that was my adventure last night Shwarma Man. Thanks for your help!