So this morning, I almost locked my keys in my car. Almost, but not quite. Which got me thinking about the first time I locked my keys in my car. And it's kind of a ridiculous story, so I thought I'd share it with you and hopefully make you at least giggle a little on this Thursday afternoon.
Ok, well, confession. It's technically a story about how my mom locked the keys in our car and I just happened to be there with her. I did lock my keys in my car once last year at school and on my first day of work, but maybe I'll share those stories later.
It was a Wednesday night many years ago. Seven years ago, to be exact. I think.My mother and I drove out to the court house in Fairfax so I could receive my license.
You see, in the state of Virginia, after they put you through the pain of the written course, behind-the-wheel training, and 40 hours of driving time, you still have to do one more thing before you can get your license. You have to go to the courthouse. You have to sit in the court room while the judge drones on and on about how driving is a privilege, not a right, and how you shouldn't do dumb stuff and if he ever sees any of you back in his court room because of a driving offense he'll kick your butt. And then they call out the names of everyone and give you your official license. It's mind numbingly boring and just plain dumb.
The fact that it was on a Wednesday night just pissed me off even more because it meant I couldn't go to youth group. I was not a happy camper.
So my mom and I drove out to the court house on that Wednesday evening. We stopped by Wendy's on the way and ended up getting there a bit early. So, mom turned off the car and we finished our food. Then we got out of the car, locked the doors and proceeded to the court house.
After a couple of minutes, we realized we had left the map sent to us in the car and we weren't quite sure which building we needed to go to. So we turned around and headed back to the car. As we arrived back at the car, mom kept searching for her keys.
"Do you have the keys?" she asked.
"No. Don't you have them?"
"I can't find them."
We arrive back at the car and look inside. Sure enough, there the keys are. Sitting on the cup holder, right where mom put them when she turned off the car.
Well, crap.
We proceeded back towards the general direction of the court house and were thankfully able to find the right building. Before heading in, we called my dad to let him know about our predicament. Mom got his voicemail, so she left him one herself, informing him that she had to turn her phone off while we were inside the court house but she'd talk to him when we got out.
We went into the court house, headed into the court room and sat down. For the next hour, the judge droned on and on about how driving is a privilege and not a right. It can be taken away at any time. Drunk driving is a bad idea. To illustrate this point, they had us watch a video about some kid who drove drunk and screwed up his life. And then they reiterated the point that drunk driving is a bad idea. Don't do it. Yes, we know. Let's just get on with this. By the time the judge finished, I was bored nearly to tears.
Being as my last name starts with H, I was one of the first people to get my license, but we have to wait until everyone got theirs before we could leave. Shoot me now.
But finally, the dreaded court date was done. Hallelujah!
Mom and I headed bakc outside and she turned her phone on. No voicemail from dad. So she called him again. She asked if he had gotten her voicemail and he said no. She explained our predicament and asked if he could drive out to Fairfax to bring us the spare key to the van.
Dad's answer? No.
Why? Because on his way out of the metro, his car broke down and he was at the repair shop. Womp womp.
Yep. That happened.
Our friends the Noetzels were then enlisted to go to the repair shop and get the spare key from my dad and then drive it all the way out to Fairfax. We were then supposed to go to the repair shop to pick up my dad. Oy.
So mom and I wandered up and down the street we were supposed to meet our friends on, keeping cell phone in hand. It was about a 10 minute drive from their house to the repair shop and then another 20-25 minutes out to the court house. And it was cold. Needless to say, not the most fun thing ever to walk up and down a street for over 30 minutes in the cold. Especially because I hate cold. With a burning passion.
Finally, Mr. Noetzel showed up. He gave us the key and we rushed to the car. Mom immediately blasted the heat and we booked it out of there. We then drove to the repair shop and picked dad up.
And to think, I had been hoping the court date wouldn't take super long so I could at least go to part of youth group. Wishful thinking, Sarah. Wishful thinking.
Do you have any crazy keys locked in the car stories? Share away!
Image by Matthew Oliphant. Used under Creative Commons License.
