Fall 1992. On a college campus. A young girl in a purple top off her shoulders, and a purple miniskirt, drops her backpack on the driver seat of her silver car and shuts the door. Suddenly, the smile fades from her fresh face. She has just realized that she has locked her car keys in the car…and her spare set of car keys in her backpack…are also in the car. What was supposed to be a relaxing Friday afternoon watching some of her classmates play a friendly game of baseball has turned into another adventure. What should she do?
I was that girl…and this is just one my most embarrassing moments (and there have been hundreds). Oh, not the moment above, but how the story ended.
My parents were at least half an hour away, assuming I could reach them at home. I’m pretty sure my Dad was at work that day. I was in first year so I hadn’t made friends, and I didn’t really know anyone in the city. I borrowed a quarter from another girl and called the only person I could think of at the time – my ex-boyfriend. It had been close to a year since he absolutely broke my heart. One week he was talking about getting married in a few years’ time, and the next week he was breaking up with me. To this day, I still don’t know what happened. There was a strong possibility that we would get back together after my 18th birthday, and when he came to see me at work one afternoon in August, I was horrified to find out that he did want to date, but not exclusively. I was still very much “head over heels” and wanted more…so, to his disappointment, I said “no”. To say the phone call was awkward is an understatement, but I was a damsel in distress.
So I called him and told him what had happened and where I was parked. He agreed to meet me in the parking lot in half an hour. It was an awkward meeting and he was in a hurry to get to class. He started with fiddling with the driver door handle and examining the windows…it was then that I noticed….the passenger door was unlocked. It had been unlocked the whole time. I was so embarrassed, and He assumed it was a “ploy” and never spoke to me again.
I have only locked my keys in the car once since this unfortunate incident, and it wasn’t my fault. I set my purse on the driver seat to take off my sweater, and Big Guy, always the gentleman, closed the door for me. Fortunately we had been following my brother on the highway and he had stopped for gas, so I caught him and borrowed a quarter and the phone number for roadside assistance. I always check to see where my car keys are before I close the door. Big Guy has yet to learn that lesson…(sorry – I had to shift the bwa ha ha from me to someone else!)