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Monday, July 16, 2012

Keys

There comes a point in your life when you realize you've lost your marbles.  All of them. 

Sit back relax and enjoy this story that not only demonstrates my questionable judgment but absence of marbles and incredible luck.

It's a regular Wednesday.  80 degrees and beautiful in Seattle.  I'm wearing a favorite outfit, hair done, make up dramatic and sultry and the compliments and flowing like the Nile in monsoon season.  I'm totally digging it.  I'm unstoppable.

I had received an email from a former co-worker early Wednesday morning who I REALLY wanted to make the effort to spend time with.  It had been a while since we had hung out and I REALLY enjoy spending time with him.  (Maybe too much but that's a whole different issue).

The problem was is that I had my aesthetician appointment at 4:00 pm, in downtown Seattle and foolishly thought I could make it somewhere by 6:00 pm. 

At 3:30 I go to my appointment, RUN the mile back to the office to pick up my things, race out the door to haul my ass up Queen Anne.

Half way up the hill a truck pulled over and a kind grandfatherly figure asked for directions .  He was hopelessly lost and would never get to his destination without assistance.  So in a moment of questionable judgment I offered to navigate him there and hopped into a stranger's car.  He turns out to be a cab dispatcher  for Bainbridge island so while we are navigating our way up to his destination he is also dispatching calls on Bainbridge Island. Trust me, I regularly asked myself, "WHAT IS GOING ON?!" 

I guided him to his location which happened to be on the OTHER side of Queen Anne at which point I hopped out and walked UP the back side of Queen Anne.  He was very kind an appreciative which was noted and appreciated.  But,  the clock is ticking, I am sweating profusely from the run up the hill and the general warmness of the day.  I get to my door and go pull out my keys.

Keys…keys…keys…(commence body pat down) WHERE THE EFF ARE MY EFFING KEYS!  EFFF!

Then it dawns on me….those super helpful keys that get me into my apartment and start my car are in my blazer pocket draped gracefully over the back seat of my chair... at the office.

I am no longer unstoppable.  In fact, I'm very stoppable. Right in my tracks standing outside my apartment with my locked car parked just across the street. Commence freak out. 

I call 4 co-workers and the landlord with no avail.  With no further options, I start walking BACK to work.  I opted to take a longer but higher traffic road in the hopes luck would befall me and a bus or cab would cross my path, thus reducing my travel time to minutes instead of an hour.

Alas! A struck of luck.  The inner/former New Yorker hailed an empty cab like a pro and hopped in.  I begged for him to wait for me at the building because the odds of  me getting that lucky again were slimmer than none.  I raced through the lobby, across the courtyard through a very fancy reception, up the elevator, reverse order back out the front. The cab driver so kindly waited and graciously returned me home, with keys in hand. 

Phew.

Now remember how I really loved my outfit and had my shit put together that day.  Well, a frantic 3 hours in the heat of the day quickly undid that into a drenched, dishevled, fire engine red discolored  shit show.   So, now that I'm 30 minutes late and a hot shit mess, I towel down, redo the face and hair and change into a less heart-palpating outfit and head on out.  Bless his heart the whole time he was calmly assuring me that it was all fine and to take my time and that there was no rush.

After a great evening of laughs and conversation, 10:30 pm was creeping up and that 7:30 am meeting was creeping up real fast.  I rolled on home thinking to myself  there are lessons to be learned from this like, take time to help someone out, or remember your keys, always or hide a spare key or something insightful and practical.   The only one that I can come up with is to plan for the unexpected , keep your marbles as long as you can, keep a dress to impress outfit on hand and shave...always.  None of which I had. 

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