Wednesday: So THAT'S Where the Keys Were!

After my time at the Adoration Chapel, I put gas in the van and picked up a few groceries. Getting back to the van, I reached for the key. It wasn't where I'd put it, in my coat pocket.

It's got one of these beepers attached, with three buttons: unlock, lock, and "panic." Everybody in this house, and several adjoining properties, knew when I discovered what the "panic" button did.

No problem. I'd probably left it in the ignition. Not smart, but no crisis.

It wasn't in the ignition.

No problem. I'd probably dropped it, there in the van.

It wasn't on the floor of the van, anywhere near the driver's seat.

This could be a problem. But, I'd probably dropped it by the checkout.

It wasn't there.

Oh-kay. I retraced my steps, from the van to Coborn's entrance, and up and down the aisles I'd been in.

It wasn't there.

I waited in line at the customer service desk, had a nice, short, chat, and learned that the keys weren't there, either. A young man with better eyes than mine was deputized to walk the aisles. I went back to the van for another, more wide-ranging, search.

No key.

Key, actually. I did find a pen that I'd mislaid, but that wouldn't start the van.

Back into Coborn's, where I took the young man's advice (he hadn't found the key), and went to the deli. I'd mentioned that I was going to search myself. He was right: an empty deli table is a dandy place to put a coat and the contents of pockets while engaged in an auto-frisk.

I even systematically patted down the entire coat. The key's small enough to have slipped through an (as yet undiscovered) hole in one of the pockets.

No hole, no keys. Lots of frustration, though.

So, I go out to the van, checked around again, and dropped off what I'd bought. On my way out, I talked briefly with a lady who'd lost her wallet. My problem was an inconvenience. She had a more serious concern.

Still no key.

Back inside, I re-checked the entrance and exit: and the checkout line I'd used.

Still no key.

I decided to call it a day, and called home to ask for a ride.

And, discovered that the other two vehicles available aren't ready to be driven yet: We'd sort of mothballed them over the winter. No problem. It's only a few blocks from Coborn's to home, so it wouldn't be more than a mildly nippy walk. Good exercise. I reached in my coat pocket for my gloves.

No gloves

And, no prospect of a ride home.

Still no key.

This was shaping up to be an interesting afternoon.

I checked the deli: no gloves there.

I checked the rout I'd taken: no gloves there. On my way out, I chatted with the wallet-less lady again. She was getting distinctly concerned. By that time, the banks were closed, so she couldn't call in and shut down accounts until morning. I think she was the one who mentioned that she was praying about it, and I observed that praying was known to help.

The gloves were in the van, right where I'd left them. At about that moment, I thought of another spot in the store that might have been overlooked: the floor of the checkout aisle. Back in again.

No keys. At all

I started to put my gloves on. One was a lot heavier than the other. The key, and it's ring, were inside. With the beeper gadget and the Marian medal I keep on the ring.

By that time, I was at the east entrance. I'd been hearing someone calling to another person, down by the west entrance, but had been distracted.

It was the wallet-less lady, catching up to me, with someone from the checkouts close behind.

She'd found her wallet. Good news! We talked about that for maybe a dozen words, over one of those flat-topped trash containers. The cashier had caught up by then, and asked me if I'd found my keys.

I told the two that they might be in for the laugh of their lives. I took the key-bearing glove by one finger, gave it a good shake, and out dropped the keys, onto the table-like top of the trash can.

I got home just in time for my wife and #3 daughter to use the van for something related to our son's birthday. But that's a matter for yet another post.