I had to get myself dolled up in order to take a picture for an online interview (which you can and should read here). This was around 6pm Saturday evening and I decided I couldn’t let ::gestures to entire self:: ALL OF THIS go to waste.
I drove downtown to hang out with my friend Mike and his entourage for the evening. The first place we went served cake and wine, and had a tame bunny rabbit that roamed the outdoor patio.
WARNING: If your evening starts out as incredible as to include cake, wine AND friendly bunny rabbits that allow you to pet them, you need to call it an early evening because it can only go downhill from there.
We decided since the evening was going SO WELL that we would leave and go bar-hopping a bit. At the third bar, I ordered drinks for Mike and myself and realized too late that my debit card was not in my wallet.
Not to worry. I must have left it at the previous bar. We jumped into the car and drove back to the other bar. Mike was tired and fairly drunk, so I left him in the car and went inside.
I explained to the bartender that I thought I’d left my card. He said he hadn’t seen one but helped me look anyway. We looked EVERYWHERE and it was nowhere to be found. I started to get that sinking feeling in my stomach that you get when you realize you’ve screwed up and it’s going to be a pain in the ass. So I thanked him and went back out to the car.
When I got in, I asked Mike for the keys so we could go home. He looked at me like I was nuts and said “I don’t have your keys.”
I checked my pockets, the console, my purse…NO KEYS. What the hell?? We had DRIVEN there and the car was unlocked. WHERE THE HELL WERE MY KEYS??
We ended up tearing my car apart looking for them.
(Y’all, I didn’t even LOOK at my car yesterday because I knew it was going to be a disaster and I wasn’t equipped to deal with THAT on top of the wine headache. But let me assure you that when I got in the car to go to work this morning, it looked like I had been robbed.)
We dumped EVERYTHING out on the seats and the floor attempting to find the keys that HAD TO BE THERE. I cursed every gremlin, imp, fairy, elf, sprite and voodoo spirit I could think of that could POSSIBLY be responsible for poofing them away into thin air.
Finally, I decided to go back into the bar to see if I’d set them down inside while looking for my debit card. Mike continued to go through the car while I was gone. The bar staff were busy cleaning up in order to close. No one had seen my keys. Defeated, I decided to take advantage of the ladies room before they locked us out.
That was when I dropped my iPhone into the toilet.
My phone…my link to the world and the one thing that I carry with me EVERYWHERE…including my wallet case containing my ID and remaining credit card, sunk to the bottom of the toilet bowl like a stone. Without any hesitation, I reached in and yanked it out, cursing like a sailor. I grabbed some paper towels and dried it off the best I could. That was when I noticed that my debit card was simply in the wrong pocket of my wallet case.
I went back outside where Mike had given up trying to find the keys and was sitting in a pile of receipts, papers, empty water bottles, multiple lip glosses, allergy medicine and various other miscellania. I slumped down into the driver’s seat and dejectedly said, “I just dropped my phone in the toilet.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding. Does it still work??”
It still worked in that I could open it and use it, but when I dialed my husband to ask him to come get us (since we still couldn’t find my keys), the ear microphone was completely dead.
Also, Mike does not have a cell phone.
I ended up borrowing a phone from one of the bartenders who happened to be standing in the parking lot and called my husband back. At this point, I felt like such a complete and utter failure that I had managed to not only overlook the fact that I simply put my debit card in the wrong pocket, but I had somehow lost the keys to an unlocked car and possibly killed my iPhone in the process. My husband packed up our 3-year-old son in the car to come rescue us, saying we could go back and get my car in the morning.
I thanked the bartender, went back to the car and plopped down in the driver’s seat. Mike was engaged in a perpetual facepalm in the passenger seat.
I happened to glance out the windshield and there were my keys, sitting on top of the wiper blade.
::drops microphone and walks off-stage, hands in the air::