Count me among the the few, the stupid, the new joke target. What happened? Well, I’ll share.
I had pretty much nestled down for the night when I discovered I unintentionally brought inside a few nasty prickly burrs when I had been out walking. No problem. Grab the key from the cup holder where I put it at night, unlock the doors, toss ‘em, close, re-lock and replace key in cup holder.
So I did.
Or so I thought. (Cue foreboding music.)
A bit later, being of advanced age and withered bladder capacity, I prepped to visit the facilities one last time. No problem. Get the key, unlock, and go.
That’s when I discovered the key was not in the cup holder. Why is this critical? Why not just open the door and look for it in the morning? Well, boys and girls, opening the door after it’s been locked by the key sets off the alarm. I wasn’t comfortable doing that in a quiet rest are, where others were trying to, you know, rest.
Could it have bounced out when I dropped it? Sure, as my stillborn basketball career can attest. I then spent far too long poking under and around the front seats looking. The gymnastics necessary for me to reach under the front seats without ever opening a door was impressive. Yet, after many minutes of fruitless, nearly arm trapping searching…nothing. I was so sure I’d put it back, but it simply wasn’t there. Let me be clear that what I was looking for was just the fob: a small black object in a car with black upholstery, black carpets, at night.
I moved toward the rear, methodically moving everything, and there it was, nestled in the comforter I use as bedding.
Needless to say, the sprint to the bathroom was a sight to behold.
I still, still remember dropping the key in the cup holder. I remember the sound it made when I did it. Memory loss is a terrible thing. But, all’s well that ends well, I guess. No accidents and no rest, other than my own, was disturbed.