I know some people out there, and one blogger in particular who harrassed me into using one, who think that the little magnet boxes that hold spare keys are a great invention. While I don't generally like public opinion, and nearly always distrust the advice of my friends - I went along with the flow on this one. Never again.
at six fucking thirty this morning, as I am lying in the six inches of snow on the street next to my car, in the dark, blindly patting down the underside of my car in a vain attempt to recover that miniscule, dare I say near-invisible box with the spare key inside of it, trying not to inhale exhaust and fervently hoping that I wouldn't get hit by some suburban Joe on his way to work, I cursed anyone who ever recommended that damn box.
I am logical enough to understand that I bear some responsibility for managing to lock my keys in my car while it was running to begin the whole debacle. But it makes me feel much better to vent my spleen elsewhere. Especially at ungodly hours of the morning.
My spare key is going back in my extra bag in up in my bedroom, and that box is getting returned to the fiery pit from whence it came.
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8 comments:
Moronica knows quite a bit about locking his keys in his car while it's running. My favorite time was at the grocery store. When I arrived (not to help, just to gawk), I saw him trying to thread a coat hanger between the glass of the window and the door of the car. I asked him how long he'd been doing this and he said "for about half a tank."
First.
Damn, beaten by four hours.
So close.
remember when your ran out of gas because you were sleeping in it while it was running?
A.V.E. wasn't just sleeping in his running car in the mountains in September. He was doing it 10 feet away from a warm house with empty beds.
And Babbles was there to bring me either my backpack or a broom stick (either of which could unlock the Subaru).
And yeah. I do actually lock my keys in my car while it's running. I also do a bunch of other stupid things.
Anyway. Gal is right. This is all Babbles' fault.
I bet I can find Gal's spare key in less than ten seconds. And if I can't, well then it's her fault for having a car made out of paper mache and gingerbread.
Hey now - my car can take on the whatever aqua colored piece of aluminum Babbles rides around in any day, any time.
Paper Mache and gingerbread my ass.
Twisted Steel and Sex Appeal (isn't that the line?)
and concerning the spare key: its gone, baby, gone.
and concerning coat hangers vs. this little black box : My money is on the hanger.
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