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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/No-Figure8943 on 2024-11-17 17:25:39+00:00.

So, this happened after a work drinks event that went a little (okay, a lot) too long. One moment, I was at the bar laughing with coworkers, and the next thing I remember was the sound of my apartment door clicking shut behind me. That familiar oh no feeling hit me like a freight train as I instinctively reached for my pockets—and slapped bare skin.

Yup. I was stark naked.

There I was, standing in the hallway of my apartment building with no keys, no phone, no memory of how I got there, and definitely no dignity. It could’ve been 10 p.m., 2 a.m., or even mid-morning for all I knew—there were no windows, no clues, just my mortifying reality.

I started weighing my options. Option one: knock on a neighbor’s door for help, naked. Option two: take the elevator down to the lobby and ask building security for help, also naked. Both options felt equally horrifying, so I just stood there, mentally spiraling and trying to figure out how I’d hit rock bottom so efficiently.

Then, like a beacon of hope, I spotted the emergency call button in the elevator. This was my way out. I pressed it and got connected to a lift operator. She asked what kind of issue I was having, and I—utterly defeated—explained that I wasn’t trapped in the elevator but was instead trapped outside my apartment. Naked. And in need of help.

To her credit, she was surprisingly professional and said she’d contact building management for me. I waited in the hallway, exposed and humiliated, for what felt like forever until she got back to me.

“Sorry, no one’s answering.”

I was back to square one. Naked. Helpless. Pacing the hallway like a madman. Another 10 minutes passed before I tried the emergency phone again. This time, she came back with good news: someone from security was on their way up.

When the elevator finally dinged, my savior appeared—a very well-built security guard. At first, he looked in the opposite direction, probably expecting a normal, clothed tenant in distress. Then he turned and saw me. Naked. Trying my best to cover myself with my hands.

Without missing a beat, he sighed, shielded his eyes, and walked toward me, shaking his head and jingling his keys. As I tried to explain myself, he cut me off mid-sentence with a firm, “I don’t want to know.”

Normally, building policy requires ID or proof of residence, but I guess he decided it wasn’t worth prolonging the situation. He unlocked my door, still shielding his eyes, and walked away muttering something under his breath.

Now, I see him almost every day. I can’t bring myself to make eye contact, and I’m sure he’s equally happy to avoid me.

Needless to say, I no longer drink to excess. The end.

TL;DR: Got blackout drunk at a work event, somehow ended up locked out of my apartment completely naked. Had to call the elevator emergency line for help, and now I can’t make eye contact with the security guard who saved me.