Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Getting Old Sucks, Episode 5

We went to Wichita, KS a couple of weeks ago for a family thing. 


Here's one artsy picture I took while there, gratuitously placed for the sole purpose of pimping my photo:  


Old Town
Fast forward to Sunday morning. 


We were discussing breakfast, which was complimentary at the hotel where we were staying. But I really wanted an Egg McMuffin.* 


Mitch hemmed and hawed and went on and on...  something about spending money for breakfast when we could get it for "free"...blah, blah, blah...eventually we came to this compromise: He and Libby would eat the continental breakfast and we would stop at McDonalds on the way out of town so I could get my beloved Egg McMuffin.  


It was 9:30 a.m. McDonalds stops serving breakfast at 10:30 a.m. so we had plenty of time. The only thing I had to do was finish packing and load the car while they were eating. 


(Foreshadowing. Just in case you aren't familiar with my writing style.)  


I brought a load of stuff out the car and was going to leave it open while I went back for more but thought better of it.  After all, I had just loaded the camera and a laptop in the trunk. Even though I didn't really think anyone would run to the car and rob me blind in the three minutes it would take to make a round trip from the car to the hotel room, I went ahead and locked the car ensuring the hotel room key was in my pocket.  


I came back out with load #2 of stuff, reached into my back pocket for the car keys...


Huh.  


Not there.  


Other back pocket?  


Hotel card. No keys. 


Front pockets?  


No.  


Jacket pocket! Which was back in the hotel room.  


Whew.  


Except no. Keys weren't there either. Or in the bathroom, or sitting on the counter, or sitting on the little table by the front door.


Clearly I put them in my purse. 


Now where did I put that?  


A quick scan of the hotel room left me empty handed.


Oh, God no.  


Did I leave my purse in the car??  


Say you: You locked your keys in the car. 


Say me: Oh, dude. I'm just getting started. 


I met Libby and Mitch returning from breakfast as I was going back out to the car and gave them the rundown. Mitch suggested they look in the hotel room (fresh eyes and all that) but one look on the front seat confirmed my fear: there sat my purse.  


They went back and tore apart the hotel room looking for the keys as a precautionary measure anyway, plus looked all over the place outside on the chance I dropped them. But I was convinced they were in my purse. That I couldn't remember when I put them in my purse was irrelevant (half the time I don't remember getting out of bed these days). I took some time to clean out the car a bit when I was loading up, it was probably then. 


So we called a locksmith.


And waited for really not that long. It just felt like forever because I was sitting in the hotel room watching the clock as my chances for having an Egg McMuffin for breakfast were slowly deteriorating. 


I mean, let's talk priorities.  


As I continued bemoaning my fate, Geek Man went outside to greet our savior. I knew when the locksmith finally appeared and got the car open, along with the entire south** side of Wichita. Because my car alarm started going wailing and it would NOT shut off.  


What the hell, Mitch? Click the alarm off already! Geez!  


I trot out to the car fearful we were close to getting a ticket for disturbing the peace, only to find Mitch frantically searching for my keys.  


As it turns out, they sorta weren't in my purse. 


And no one turned them in to the front desk. Which OK, we probably should have checked with them first before we called the locksmith, but whatever. In this case it didn't matter because they weren't there. 


Commence tearing apart the car. (With, I might add, the car alarm blaring. Yeah, we were those people.) Including unpacking all the bags I had loaded up already and stripping the trunk to the point that you could see the cement under the car because the keys HAD TO BE THERE especially since I insisted they were and we just paid someone 50 bucks to open the car!  


They weren't there.  


I then return to the hotel room, and after ripping all the covers off the beds, again, looking under the towels, again, and unpacking the few bags left in the room, again, I start in on looking in all the weird places. The sink in the bathroom. The fridge. The freezer. Inside the microwave. 


Denied. 


Where the hell are the keys? 


Panic sets in. 


I went outside to find Mitch, who had the nerve to get all rational on me. 


The Geek: OK, let's walk through exactly what you did when you got out here the first time with the keys.  


So I did. 


Armed with knowledge, he and Lib went back to the hotel room, and I was now checking under the hood for my keys.  


Because that makes sense.


My mind, in the interim, was steering off into some seriously crazy territory by now. Someone TOOK my keys. Some punk picked them up, and instead of turning them in, she held on to them. Said punk was now holed up in her hotel room and watching our drama unfold. She was probably eating the complimentary bag of microwave popcorn that came in the room. What sort of jackass STEALS KEYS? OMG, how much is a new clicker going to cost to replace? Those things are so expensive....


Then I hear Libby's excited voice:


Lib: Mom!! WE FOUND THEM!! THEY WERE IN THE TRASHCAN!! 


You read that correctly. 


Remember when I said I cleaned out the car? I threw the trash away in the hotel room. Along with my keys. The hotel room was a suite and had a kitchenette. I threw them away in the trashcan that lived behind closed doors under the sink. 


I'm thorough that way.  


I literally started crying. CRYING. Libby was laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, The Geek was hugging me and laughing and telling me it was OK and all I could do was bawl like a baby.  


You want to know what the biggest tragedy was?


It was too late to buy an Egg McMuffin. ->


*Yes, I eat Egg McMuffins. They are, bar none, the best invention on the planet. Well, next to chocolate. And beer. And wine. And Prima Donna cheese. OK, let me amend that: They are, bar none, the best fast food invention on the planet. 


**I'm guessing it was the south side. I actually have no clue what part of town our hotel was located in.  


***We usually bring two sets of keys with us for just this kind of emergency. Obviously I made the decision not to grab my set on this occasion. It was JUST to Wichita, a 2.5 hour drive from us. We were ONLY going to be gone 48 hours...

4 comments:

Deirdre Newcomb said...

Think my favorite line: The Geek was hugging me and laughing and telling me it was OK

Good geek ya got there!

Tanya said...

Yeah. I decided to keep him.

Baysage said...

What an anti-climax. If you had any experience with being old you would have looked in the trashcan first. :-|

Susan said...

It sounds like something I would do. Dad would have been soooooo furious at me - yelling and screaming at me people would have come to the parking lot to see what was wrong - kudos for Libby - she is so smart - Mom