Yesterday, all my troubles weren’t so far away. To paraphrase The Beatles.
I actually said the words “you couldn’t write this.” Then I decided to.
It happened like this
I felt moved to pop into our town centre for a walk around as it’s an indoor shopping centre and it’s warm, which the UK is not right now.
I leave the house, as you do, jump in the car, and proceed to town. Get there, park, and realise that my door key is missing.
Oh no! I’ve let it in the front door! There is precedent for that panic. I pay for my five minutes of parking, dash home, no key in the door! Fortunately it is locked, except now I don’t have a key. My neighbours supply our spare key.
I get indoors, turn out my handbag again, nothing. Check my coat pocket again. Still nothing. Take my phone out to the car, turn the torch on, stand on my head and nearly spiflicate myself, look under all the seats, the key is nowhere in sight.
*Spiflicate is an old English term for trying to fold yourself into a pretzel to look under a car seat!
So I call a locksmith. THEN I decide to check the front door security camera. I clearly lock the door, I clearly put the key in my handbag and do the zip up.
Have the fairies made away with it? I go out and check the drive, I haven’t dropped it there.
THEN it dawns on me, I must have dropped it in the car park! I wouldn’t have heard it fall as it’s beside a busy main road. I should go back for it, the locksmith said he would be two hours so I have time.
The locksmith calls to check the house number. He’s come earlier to help me out. Much appreciated, but bugger! So now do I have the lock changed or take the risk that the key is in the carpark. If I do that and someone has taken it? Okay there’s no identification on it but…will I ever feel safe again?
*Bugger, a term referring to life messing with your sanity, that saves a lady writing the word f*ck! Which is what I may have thought but that will remain unconfirmed.
The doorbell rings. Decision made. Change lock.
Retrieving the situation
When that’s done I pop into town, go to the same car park, drive to where I originally parked, and there, sparkling in the headlamps, is my now obsolete front door key.
Why could it not have sparkled when I drove away? Why could I not have trodden on it?
Why did I go back for a now useless key?
Because…
My ex gave me one present that I really loved, my key ring. We hadn’t known each other long when I turned 18, the age when you’re formally an adult in the UK whilst still making rookie mistakes. Adulting is hard for the first 50 years, or so.
He gave me the key ring and I was so thrilled with it. Then he said “you’d better go and get your real present”. It was a matching leather handbag.
It was odd, but that key ring had been enough, the handbag kind of tainted it a bit. When we split up I threw a bag of gold jewellery in the dustbin, but I kept that key ring. There was something real about that gift.
It’s 50 in June. It’s nice to have that one good memory to remind me that it wasn’t all pain, or a waste.
However…
The moral of the story is – your security cameras aren’t just for safety, they could save you money if you just check them.
Sigh
Deb xx
Deb Hawken - Amorah 