By Jamie Baker
Has there ever been a more sinking feeling than to be away from the house and reach into your pocket, expecting to grab the keys, only to find a dilapidated cough drop wrapper and some lint?
Alas, it happened to me. Again. I am, by my own admission, one of the most absentminded people on the planet, but I was POSITIVE I had put those keys in my pocket.
The first thing that gets you is that nauseating knot in your gut. You know the one-the same one you feel when you hear the door click shut and notice the keys on the seat, safely locked inside the car. Yeah, that feeling.
The series of thoughts that go through your mind are amazing. “Uh, oh,” followed by “How am I going to get home?”, followed by “Crap, my wife has Tae Kwon Do class and she’s going to kick me in the brain,” followed by “So HOW am I gonna get HOME?”
Then the panic sets in and brings on the forcible self-frisking. A bank-robbing, crack-selling, terrorist doesn’t get patted down that violently. I still have bruises on my hips. To an onlooker, unaware of the situation, it must look like the most fouled-up version of the Macarena ever performed.
After you realize the denim cupboards are bare comes the immediate look-at-the-ground reflex. I’m not really sure what this is supposed to accomplish, but if the keys weren’t in your pocket I’m pretty sure that a thieving key pixie didn’t develop a conscience and drop them in front of you before scampering off.
Then the second wave of thoughts hit, but much less organized than before. “Crap, Tae Kwon Do, dead brain, no keys, where, how, tow truck, bad Monday, am I losing my mind? AND HOW am I getting HOME?!?”
Finally comes the frenzied retracing of the steps, elevated blood pressure, and genuine anger. I suspect that if I had one of those old mercury blood pressure meters on my arm, it’d look like a mercury version of the fountains at the Bellagio in Las Vegas.
It just so happens that this one occurred at work, but even if that were not the case, the places you find yourself looking are, in retrospect, odd to say the least. Especially once the obvious places have netted you diddly-squat. Like under the floor mat, for example.
That’s what makes the questions people ask even more amazing, though not very amusing in the moment. I presume they ask them because of some past experience of their own. Or maybe it’s just ignorance. Anyway, here are some of my favorites:
Q: Lose something?
A: Nope, I always walk around at 90 mph, looking under floor mats, mumbling to myself about Tae Kwon Do.
Q: Did you check your pockets?
A: Pockets? OH… you mean those cloth sacks stitched to the inside of my pants? Yes, I checked them. In fact, I took my pants off in the parking lot and gave them a vigorous, upside-down shake. No dice or keys to be found in them at all.
Q: Did you look in the ignition?
A: Yes, as soon as I got my pants back on.
Q: Did you look in your billfold?
A: What the-?? Why didn’t I think of that? I know I often get distracted by vending machines in the middle of parking lots calling me to satisfy my need for a soda or a candy bar. Maybe I put the key in there when I went looking for a buck.
Q: Did you look in the restroom?
A: I wouldn’t normally have thought to look there… but today, given that I brought the car in the stall with me while I was taking care of business, I sure did.
Q: Did you look in your shoe?
A: Now, I know that I’m no princess and there’s no way I’d feel a pea under my mattress, but given the fact that a 1/16 inch pebble in my shoe made me sit down in the parking lot to empty it out, I don’t suspect I’ll find a 2-inch steel key in there. Still, I can’t rule out a chance encounter with David Blaine, so it’s worth a shot.
Q: Did you look in the fridge?
A: Yep, over between the O.J. and Thousand Island dressing, where I usually keep them.
I know they meant well and I truly appreciated the concern, but I just wanted them to go look instead of playing Dick Tracy. I also know that, in their shoes, I’d probably find myself doing the same thing.
And for the record, yes I got the keys back. A kind gentleman found them in the parking lot and returned them to me when he came to investigate the crowd watching the Macarena exhibition.
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Jamie Baker is a professional chemist posing as a humor blogger. Or maybe vice versa. Jamie would be most happy to get reader feedback. The blog URL is http://lunatron.blogspot.com.