lock, stock, and two girls

Disclaimer: Typically, I wouldn’t update my blog while I’m at work, but since it’s Good Friday and I wasn’t given the day off and half our company took the day off anyway, I decided it’s okay!

So, it’s been just over a week since I locked myself out of our apartment. I’m seriously the queen of locking myself out of places. I locked myself out of my car/my parents’ cars countless times – a source of endless frustration to my parents. At the grocery store, at church, at East High School the morning before I started student teaching… then there was the time that my lock was FROZEN at Spring Arbor. Pretty sure Joel Skene was on security that night, and he came and saved me. Additionally, with college dorms that are locked every night, I’ve been locked out more times than I care to share – even as an RA - the person who is responsible for locking the doors! Honestly, knowing my tendencies, they may have been a little more hesitant to give me that job. I even had to crawl in through a lobby window once.

So, I locked myself out of my car last night. My friend Sara and I were spending an evening together, since her husband had a small group and my husband had his last class. Sara and I had decided to take a quick trip to the mall – I wanted to get a cardigan for Easter and she wanted to return a shirt - and then head to my place to decorate Easter eggs. Since Sara typically drives, I offered to drive. First mistake. We completed our various missions in the mall, and as we were walking back to the car, I had a sinking feeling in my gut: I didn’t remember putting my keys in my purse. I casually felt around my purse, hoping and praying to hear the familiar jingle as my fingers brushed the metal teeth that would provide entrance to my vehicle. No such luck. In a faltering voice, I looked at my companion, one hand still lingering in my purse, and said, “Um, Sara…” – at which point she fully understood the meaning behind those timid words and responded, “Are you kidding me?”

I hadn’t realized how subconscious my routine of getting out of a car had become. I always turn of the car, turn off the i-pod, slip my keys into my coat pocket, and get out. In this case, I had done just that – but then I had taken my coat off, not wanting to wear it in the mall.

Thankfully, all this happened about 15 minutes before her husband’s small group started, so he was able to pick us up. Since Doug usually doesn’t get home from class before 9:30, Sara and I decided to get dinner and go to her parents’ house to decorate the eggs (since my house keys were conveniently on the same ring as my car keys! And there is no way we were staying at her place while a dozen bodies of teenage testosterone were running rampant). So, Sara ended up driving, yet again.

Also, adding to the simultaneous humor and frustration of the situation is the fact that Doug and I have one cell phone between the two of us, which I had – so there was no way to get a hold of Doug, so we’d just have to hang out until we were sure he’d be home – around 10:00. But here’s the kicker – Doug had shown up to his last class, only to discover an empty classroom, save for the professor, who announced he was canceling the last class. Oh, sweet irony.

I’m seriously debating between two options: never locking anything ever again or wearing every key I own around my neck at all times.

1 comment:

  1. Wear them on your hip, like a custodian. Then, you'll look even more important, and people will ask you to open doors for them. I'm looking for a hip/key device as we speak.