Yesterday I got home, parked my car, grabbed my purse and went into my apartment. It wasn’t until two hours later when I was pulling on my butt pads for roller derby practice that I realized I didn’t have my car keys.
After some fevered searching in the same places over and over—coat pocket, three purses, tiny pants pocket—I conceded I might have left them in my car. I put on my Crocs and went outside to check and sure enough, there they were on the driver’s seat, right in the spot usually reserved for drips from a hastily-eaten McMuffin.
I think I might have said “ugh” out loud, which is something that usually only happens to Charlie Brown and anyone who can be called a “tween.”
Lucky for me, I’d never before locked my keys in the car. Unlucky for me, that meant I didn’t know quite how to solve my problem. But thanks to the internet, nobody needs to have problems anymore! (Am I right?)
Here’s what I did when I realized I’d locked my keys in the car:
Googled: “What to do when you lock your keys in the car.” (Happy to report Google didn’t point nor laugh.)
Disregarded Google results and tweeted about it instead.
Got this response:
Google Mapped a way to get to my derby practice by bus. Learned the 7-minute drive could also be done in 38 minutes by Calgary Transit, if I wanted to arrive at practice 45 minutes late. Briefly considered walking. (OK, not really.)
Googled taxi phone numbers. Called one taxi company, hung up when I got put on hold. Called another taxi company and stayed on hold for 6.5 minutes and then asked for a cab. Thought about the limit on the number of cabs in Calgary. Laughed sarcastically to myself.
Cried a little. Because this was annoying.
Got in the cab, played roller derby, hit my friends and laughed a lot.
Told my teammates my woes. We ate nachos and deep-fried pickles and talked about the Hobbit, bad dates and what we smelled like after practice.
Went to home to bed. Because who wants to invite an expert lock-picker to your house when it’s dark out?
Woke up and remembered I’d locked my keys in the car. Got some caffeine into me.
Looked to Twitter again for advice. Followed the advice, most of which said, “get AMA, silly.”
Called AMA. I told the operator, “I’d like to renew my AMA card. Partly because I didn’t renew it last year, but mostly because I locked my keys in the car.” She was sympathetic and told me we’d start a new account or else I’d have to backpay for the past year. She rung me up for $100.81 and transferred me to the road rescue people.
I gave that man my information while also looking up the wait times for locksmith work on the AMA website. It said three hours. The operator told me it would be within the hour. I inwardly cheered while also doubting him.
Got a call from AMA: we’re here. Went outside and a smily AMA rescuer (superhero?) asked me, smiling, “you wouldn’t happen to be a person whose keys are looked in the car, would you?”
I said I was. He promised it would only take 16 seconds for him to break into my car. I was quick: “Can I take a photo for my blog?” He gave me a look. “Sure,” he said with a shrug.
I had time for two photos and he was done.
“Sorry for breaking into your car.”