Former Pothead Locks Keys In Car

This story, besides being long, makes me look like a real moron, now that I'm not a pothead anymore, but I feel like I want to share it anyway.

Yesterday I left my apartment at 7:45am and headed to my favorite gas station for a package of smokes. I got my smokes, walked out of the store and felt for my keys on my belt, alas, they were not there. I raced over to my locked car, and my keys were sitting on the seat taunting me in the morning sun, while my cell phone sat sad and lonely on the armrest.

I hoofed it to my apartment where I had an extra remote opener, planning on how to break into my apartment the entire way. I live on the 2nd floor of a 4-plex. The building has a front and back door, both locked, a 2-tiered balcony on the front, and each apartment had a back and front door with separate stair access for each. I always thought of myself as a resourceful person, and a fan of MacGyver, so my first thought was that my back door to my apartment does not have a deadbolt and I might be able to pick it. I rang my downstairs neighbor, who let me in the back door of the building and I went to work with my credit card and an old hanger I found in the basement. Half hour later...the door was still locked and now I was officially late for work.

Next, I ventured outside to see how I could get to my 2nd floor window. The roof under my back window angles down to a reasonable height. I did not have a ladder, so I grabbed a gas grill from the backyard and set it up next to the building. This is one of those grills with the rounded top, and as it turns out, is much harder to climb onto than one would think. After 2 failed tries to mount the grill, I finally succeeded and stood there on a grill with my hands steadying myself on the roof. At this point, to get on the roof, I would still need to do a wicked pull-up with nothing to hang on to except a shingled slanted roof and considering the recovering alcoholic physique I have going, I saw no future in that, so I aborted the mission.

My next thought was the balcony. If I was on the top balcony, I could easily climb into my window. I walked out front, looked at it, and immediately knew there was no chance I was going to climb that thing, so that was out. I buzzed the only other apartment that had top balcony access, but they were not home. At this point, I caved in and buzzed my downstairs neighbor again. I asked to use the phone and if he had our landlord’s number, to which he luckily answered yes on both accounts. My landlord said he’d be over in half an hour.

He showed up. I got in. I grabbed my extra remote opener and headed back to my car. I curiously pushed the button on the remote just to check it out, and the little red light didn’t light up. Without panic, I kept walking, faster and faster, hoping the light was burned out. When I got there, I realized the light was not burned out and the battery was in fact dead. I went into the gas station, tried to explain to him my situation, and asked him to please not tow my car. He had trouble understanding me, since English was not his first language. He kept pointing to the other side of the store and saying something I did not understand. Of course, they did not sell the 3 Volt button-type battery I needed, so off I went further on down Lake Street.

On this part of Lake Street, there are hundreds of places to get a taco, but not one place to purchase batteries. So I kept walking. About 3 blocks later I remembered something my estranged wife told me a few months ago. “Eric, I put a new battery in the remote opener and it still doesn’t work…”

I kept walking until I got to the Target at Lake and Hwy 55.

I purchased the battery. I put the battery in and pushed the button…the light lit up! I praised my God, walked back to my car, and got to work 3.5 hours late.

Here is an awesome drawing of me climbing on the grill: