A Moment Completely Devoid Of Active Brain Power
It was a beautiful Sunday morning: A day that couldn’t be wasted.
I had volunteered to spend a bit of time helping with a bottle drive, the proceeds of which would be going to Leukemia research. I would be outside with an enthusiastic bunch of people, enjoying the beautiful weather and doing some work for a very worthy cause. Perfect.
So I grabbed my purse, a light jacket and keys and hopped into the car. I made a mental note to myself that, because I’d be outside, I’d stash my purse and jacket in the trunk, and I wouldn’t be a knucklehead and tuck my keys into the pocket of my purse like I usually do. I got to my destination, locked everything away, and off I went.
About an hour later, a co-worker suggested that we go and get coffee and water for the volunteers. I offered to get my purse so that it wouldn’t all come out of her pocket. It was then that I discovered what I had done.
My keys weren’t in my pocket. I had done exactly what I didn’t want to do: Locked them in the trunk of the car. Where were my spares? In my purse. In the trunk. Ugh. I said I would call my local auto club, but my membership card was, you guessed it: In my purse. In the trunk.
We did our beverage run, and I made the call anyway. I explained my situation, and was told that I would be rescued shortly. A few minutes later, help arrived. I had left the windows open a smidge, and the young fellow was able to reach in with his magic tool and unlock. That’s when the chaos started.
Unlocking the car set off the alarm, which sent me scurrying to fold the rear seat down so that I could get into the trunk and rescue my purse and keys. But the seat wouldn’t budge, I couldn’t remember how to release it. Several co-workers came to my aid, poking at this and prodding at that. The horn kept beeping…
“Where’s your trunk release? one asked. “Don’t think I have one” I replied. “Just a hood release. I’ve had the car four years. I thought I knew where everything was.
“Right there, Nance…” Up popped the trunk. The button was directly above my left knee. Another one of my work mates asked how the alarm could have been set off. When I started to explain that the unlocking process was the likely culprit, he said “Did you sit on your keys?”
I reached into my back pocket. They were there the whole time.
I had sat, knelt, searched and crouched, and was completely unaware that they were there. Luckily my auto club savior didn’t stick around to see that he had been called out for nothing. My face turned seven shades of red.
Another volunteer thanked me for providing the most entertainment she’d had all weekend.
