Thursday, September 15, 2011

Where's My Keys?

To say that I was nervous would be an understatement.

It was one of our first dates.  If you don't count our trip to the circus, that is, which was our official first date.  But this was our first date that was just the two of us ... and a few college clowns at a nearby table.

I don't remember what we talked about as we sat there at Margie's Java Joint, but I remember that it was the first time that I ever had authentic chai tea.  It was served in that little french press and the cloves made my lips feel numb.  In my nervousness of sitting across from you and trying to appear cool and confident, I sipped and sipped and sipped my tea.  And several glasses of water.

At the end of the evening, you drove me home.  We chatted in the car for a few minutes and you offered to walk me to my door.

"That's okay.  Thanks for a nice evening.  See you tomorrow?"

As I walked up the sidewalk, I reached in my pocket for my house keys.  Drat.  My roommates were all out for the night and now I was locked out.  It was at that moment that I experienced a very strong feeling.  Pride.

There was no way that I was going to turn around and admit to you that I didn't have my keys.  I'd look foolish and maybe a bit irresponsible.  So I walked under the porch light, opened the screen door and pretended to unlock the door.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see you peering through the passenger window.

I waved.  You waved.  Then you drove away.

I waited until your tail-lights disappeared around the corner and then I hightailed it around the corner of the house.  We kept a spare key in the little storage shed in the back yard.  If I could get the key, I'd be home free.

As I approached the shed, I became aware of how dark it was in the back yard.  Even with the porch light over the back door, it was hard to see.  But in the glint of the light I could see the lock on the shed door.  Drat.  Again.  There was a little combination lock keeping the shed door secure.  It was at that moment that I experienced another very strong feeling.  The need to pee.

Why had I had so much tea to drink?

I fiddled with the lock, but I knew that it was too dark to manipulate the correct numbers.  Especially while doing the "I gotta go" dance.  I was starting to panic a little bit and wishing I had turned around on the front sidewalk and told you the truth.  Too late now.  I needed to get out of this pickle all by myself.

I pulled on the shed doors in frustration and I was delighted to discover that even with the lock the sliding doors could be separated a little bit.  Maybe just enough to squeeze my hand in.  I fought down every fear prompted by every scary movie I'd ever seen and stuck my fingers through the doors into the pitch black shed.  I fumbled around for a few moments and finally located the magnetic hide-a-key.  Yahoo!

I ran across the lawn to the back door (as fast as someone can run while trying not to pee their pants), threw open the door and bolted to the bathroom.  Whew!

I'd like to say that I learned my lesson that night and never locked myself out of my house again, but that would be a lie.  In fact, I locked myself out enough times that you were tempted to get a copy of my house key made just so we wouldn't have to trek around to the shed so often.  Maybe that was God's way of preparing you for the future.

Because of my past key issues, you weren't surprised by my phone call all those years later ...

As I stood outside our van in the school parking lot holding Ashley's hand and my oh-so-pregnant tummy, you left work to help me with my locked door predicament.  And you didn't even tease much when you discovered that the passenger window was rolled down.

You are a wonderful man, Brett.


Prompt #1 - Locked Out

Mama’s Losin’ It


  1. As we say here in the South,

    "Well, bless your heart!"

    Such a cute story, and so well told!

    Thanks for stopping by my blog today! Visiting you from SITS!

  2. That was a really sweet story! I used to always lock myslef out of my car. It took several years and mandatory use of caribiner clips for my then boyfriend (now husband) to break my habit. Kudo's to Brett for being one of the good ones!

  3. Coming from SITS!
    I love this story! I'm also very good at locking myself out of things. Particularly when I'm laden down with 10 bajillion children, backpacks, groceries and more...

  4. Hee, hee!! I remember that night!!


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