I lost my keys on Easter Sunday.
Actually, they were last seen on Friday night around 6 pm, in the vacinity of my right hand, as I used them to enter my premises after work.
I did not leave the house on Saturday (as I call it, Sloth Day), and the next day, when I went to commence my Easter visitin', I could not, for the life of me, find my keys.
I turned the house upside down multiple times, most of it in tears at the stupidity of someone who could lose a large set of keys in a 1000 sq. foot house.
I didn't even go upstairs on Saturday, so I actually lost them somewhere within 500 sq. feet.
I do have several spare sets of house keys, so getting in and out of the house was no problem. I always carry a spare set in my lady-bag, in case I get locked out or have to gouge the eyes of some car-jacker or squeegy kid at an intersection. (Fair warning, squeegy kids.)
But my car key is one of those fancy-pants computerized fobs and I had only one. I bought my car used; had I bought new, it would have come with two fobs. But my used Cruze came with only one, and the dealership told me at purchase time to guard it zealously, as extra fobs were around $200.
I've had the car for over two years now, and never once lost the key fob.
You think you're lost without your mobile phone?
Try dealing with a car, taunting you at the curb, that you can't get into, let alone drive.
I felt horrible having to abort the Easter visit with my mother, who's in assisted living. I was going to have brunch with her and bring her some treats. I had no other way of getting to her, so Easter had to be postponed. She was great about it (she has many friends where she lives, thank God) but I still felt like Peter denying Jesus.
Almost as bad was that I had little food at home - hadn't grocery shopped in awhile - so my Easter dinner consisted of Hormel spaghetti with "meat" sauce, canned peas and canned pears for dessert. Yum. I tried pretending that it was ham, asparagus and mashed yams, to no avail. I really wasn't hungry, except for keys.
I spent the rest of the day looking for the cursed things, even invoking St. Anthony (pretty brash for a non-Catholic). No dice. I became convinced that the keys had simply been swallowed up by my Bermuda Triangle of a house. Eventually I had to stop looking, out of sheer frustration.
Then it occurred to me - how in the hell was I gonna get to work the next day?
I have two gals living next me who are the world's best neighbors. They helped take care of me during my recent bout of pneumonia, they pick up stuff for me from the store, and they've even picked me up off the ground when I've fallen (I have R.A. and fall sometimes).
Said neighbor took me to work Monday, and I started Googling my situation. Turns out my Chevy dealer had the blank key fob, could actually laser-cut the key (after verifying about eight pieces of my personal info between them and GM), but I'd have to program the fob once I got back into the car. All for 87 bucks - quite a bargain from the $200 mentioned back in 2016 when I bought Killer (my car's nickname - my plates say KLR QEEN - all the good Steely Dan plates were taken; luckily, I also loves me some Freddie Mercury! But I digress.)
The key fob programming is a lot of fun - it takes three bouts of ten-minute ignition on-and-off for the car to download info into the fob. Only problem is that this sets your anti-theft horn to wailin'! The car registers a foreign prong in its ignition as being violated (and who wouldn't?), thus the anti-theft system goes off.
Alas, all worked with the programming and I was able to start the car. Again, I shed a tear, this time a happy one.
No, I haven't found my original keys. I'm sure they are laughing at me from a hidey-hole somewhere in the house, with the fob's prong erect in a defiant F.Y.
Back atcha, pal. You've been replaced. And this one's on a chain around my neck!
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Filed under: humor