Let's set the stage, shan't we? 1989....The cell phone? I'm not sure there were even pagers in 1989. You had to use a pay phone. No cell phones. The personal computer was just becoming a "thing," with a floppy-floppy disk and dot matrix printer. The digital camera? Not a thing. Mapquest? Nope. Use an atlas. Uber? Lyft? Huh? Thankfully, airplanes had jet engines and M-TV had been around for eight years, so at least it wasn't the dark ages.
The wife and I are on vacation, basking in the California sun. It is 1989 and this is our first "real" vacation together. An adult vacation. A trip which includes planes, rental cars hotel rooms and Travelers Checks. Travelers Checks!
We are given a Geo Prism for our rental car. It's basically a plastic box with some wheels. Alas, it serves its purpose. In fact, that cheap car took us safely on the L.A. to San Fran drive-the-coast trip, got us to Disneyland and made its way to every mall in the area. It even allowed us to tool around some mighty big college campuses. The car isn't pretty and it isn't spacious but it is reasonably-priced adult vacation transportation--and, that's what matters.
As we end our vacation, we head toward Huntington beach to do some laundry and hang out by the ocean. Doing laundry on vacation is not very fun but it is important if you want clean undies for the ride home. We haven't spent any time hanging out on a beach during this adult vacation, so this is perfect. The laundromat isn't far from the beach at all.
It's a beautiful day, warm and sunny. We are wearing our swim wear as we will be going to the ocean after finishing our laundry. I'm sporting my huarache sandals (remember them? NOT comfortable) and the wife has some form of surf socks on. We pull into the laundromat parking lot, unload the trunk and shut the trunk.
Let me clarify: I slam the trunk shut. It. Is. Slammed. Shut.
Immediately upon slamming the trunk shut, I have a moment of terror: I'm not holding the car key. I ask the wife if she has the key; she assures me I have it but I do not have it and so we are now both looking at the closed trunk.
As the car is still open, I don't panic; I just open the back door and pull down the seat to get into the trunk...
I swear to you the only thing that isn't plastic on this car is the very spot I'm looking. No, there is no access to the trunk via the back seat. I am looking at cold, hard metal keeping me from accessing the trunk like I would do in my own car.
A trickle of sweat sneaks down my temple.
No, there is no trunk latch.
No, there is no back seat access.
No, there is no trunk latch.
No, there is no back seat access.
God Bless America, I have locked the keys in the trunk.
We are in our swimsuits.
We are in California.
We are in California.
We are 3000 miles from home.
We have no one to call to help and I've locked the keys in the trunk.
We have no one to call to help and I've locked the keys in the trunk.
I stop and think. I'm so mad at myself. I look at the wife and exclaim, "Hey! There's that plastic key in the glove compartment. We'll use that to open the trunk." I go to to glove box, pull out the plastic key and...
I find that the plastic key thing.
It is indeed in the glove box but it has never been cut.
It's just a big blob of uncut plastic with a key-shaped top.
It is indeed in the glove box but it has never been cut.
It's just a big blob of uncut plastic with a key-shaped top.
More sweat.
I have to think. What to do, what to do, what to do. "We'll call the car rental company!" At least we don't have any trouble finding a pay phone. Thanks to the baby Jesus, we have LOTS of quarters in the car because we are about to do laundry. I plop a quarter in the pay phone attached to the laundromat. I call the car rental company:
ME: "I locked the keys of our rental car in the trunk."
CAR GUY: Where?
ME: "Huntington Beach."
CAR GUY: [asks questions about my name, car, reservation]
ME: "Can you send someone here to help us, bring us the spare key?"
CAR GUY: We don't do that. Nothing I can do.
ME: (So much for customer service.) "What am I supposed to do?"
CAR GUY: We don't do that. Nothing I can do.
ME: (So much for customer service.) "What am I supposed to do?"
CAR GUY: You'll have to go get a key cut at a local car dealer.
ME: "Where's the a car dealer that will do this?"
CAR GUY: I don't know. You'll have to find one.
CAR GUY: I don't know. You'll have to find one.
Are you friggin' kidding me? Like we know where that would be or how to do that. I'm none too pleased with his callous attitude. Mr. Car Rental Man and I hang up on each other.
I pull out the phone book attached to the phone booth. The wife and I are starting to get a little bit testy with each other. Like that's gonna help. I find a car dealer in the phone book and use another laundry quarter to call.
ME: "Hey, do you make car keys for Geo Prisms?"
CAR DEALER: Sure.
ME: "Can you make one for a rental car? I locked the keys of our rental car in the trunk."
CAR DEALER: Yeah, we can do that. Where are you?
ME: "I'm standing in front of a laundromat on [street name]."
CAR DEALER: Yeah, we can do that. Where are you?
ME: "I'm standing in front of a laundromat on [street name]."
CAR DEALER: We're about a mile from where we are standing.
ME: "Thanks, we're on our way."
Since we don't have a car, we have to walk. We're in good shape so walking a mile is no big deal. Walking a mile in my cheap huarache shoes and the wife's surf socks isn't fun but it's not impossible. With semi-sore feet and looking ridiculous in our swimsuits but nary a drop of sweat, we get to the dealer in about 20 minutes.
I enter the dealership, excited to take care of this situation of which I have caused. I walk to the counter, ask about the key.
ME: "Hi. I'm here to get a spare key made."
CAR GUY-NOT-DEALER: [Looks at me, looks at key-cutting machine on the counter, which is pieces and is definitely not in operation]
ME: "I just called!"
CAR GUY:-NOT-DEALER: [points to pieces of the key-making machine] Don't know what to tell you. I can't make a key.
ME: "How long will it be?"
CAR GUY: [looks at the pieces, shrugs] Not today.
The wife and I are much more testy at each other now.
ME: "Is there is another dealer in the area?"
CAR GUY: Yeah, down the road.
ME: "Can you tell me where?"
CAR GUY: [Verbally gives me the address]
ME: "Thanks."
CAR GUY: Hang on. [Calls the other dealer to ensure they can make the key; this is confirmed.] Yeah, they are on their way.
The wife and I go out the door and start hoofing our way to the next dealer.
I didn't ask any questions.
I didn't think about anything except getting to the next dealer to get a key made.
I didn't ask any questions.
I didn't think about anything except getting to the next dealer to get a key made.
(Words of wisdom: always ask questions. Always ask HOW FAR it is to the next place, especially when you are walking.)
We walk and walk and walk.
We watch for a bus to go by, as we see lots of bus stops, but not one bus drives by. There are barely any cars zipping by.
We walk and walk.
I'm now a block ahead of the wife.
We aren't speaking to each other.
I'm angry she's so slow. She's angry that I'm so fast.
I'm angry that the plastic key isn't cut. She's angry that I assume she had looked at the key when I asked about it.
I'm angry that I've locked the key in the trunk.
She's angry that I locked the key in the trunk.
We're both angry that we are spending our last day on vacation walking to get a spare key made for the rental car.
We watch for a bus to go by, as we see lots of bus stops, but not one bus drives by. There are barely any cars zipping by.
We walk and walk.
I'm now a block ahead of the wife.
We aren't speaking to each other.
I'm angry she's so slow. She's angry that I'm so fast.
I'm angry that the plastic key isn't cut. She's angry that I assume she had looked at the key when I asked about it.
I'm angry that I've locked the key in the trunk.
She's angry that I locked the key in the trunk.
We're both angry that we are spending our last day on vacation walking to get a spare key made for the rental car.
I'm now about two blocks ahead. I'm angrier with every step. I'm also in more pain. The shoes are killing me. I'm starving. I'm sweating. I look back and see the wife is limping. I guess cheap surf socks aren't the best choice of footwear when walking for hours. I wait and she catches up. We walk in silence. Dirty undies don't seem like such a big deal anymore.
Three hours later, three bloody feet, no-longer-speaking-to-each-other hours later, three hot with no water hours later, we arrive at the dealership.
THREE.
FRIGGIN'.
HOURS.
FRIGGIN'.
HOURS.
I walk in to the dealer, hot, sweat and really pissy. The wife follows a few seconds later.
Our feet are bleeding and covered with blisters.
We are parched.
We are sweaty.
We are are suicidal.
Maybe homicidal.
I'm teetering on the brink of insanity.
I do my best to gain some composure as I walk up to the counter.
I do my best to gain some composure as I walk up to the counter.
ME: "I'm here to get a key made."
CAR DEALER: [looks at me like I'm from Mars]
ME: "The dealer of such and such called, confirmed you can make a key?"
CAR DEALER: [He looks at me, still looking very confused]
ME: "They called about making a key for the rental car."
DEALER: Ummmm.... [pause]
ME: "They called about making a key for the rental car."
DEALER: Ummmm.... [pause]
ME: [staring]
DEALER [really surprised] They called three hours ago.
ME: [I can feel my eyes starting to well up] "Yes, it was."
DEALER: [pause] What took you so long to get here?
ME: [I scream-and I do mean SCREAM):
"WE WALKED!"
I burst into tears.
I've completely lost any semblance of composure.
I'm not even sure where the wife is, let alone if she is okay.
I'm exhausted, I'm hot, I'm pissed and I'm done.
I keep crying.
I'm not even sure where the wife is, let alone if she is okay.
I'm exhausted, I'm hot, I'm pissed and I'm done.
I keep crying.
Panicked, he gets us some water, makes the key pronto and doesn't charge us. With a sense of pity and urgency, he puts us in an air-conditioned car and drives us back to our key-in-the-trunk rental car. He doesn't even ask if we want a ride. He knows we need a ride.
Trunk opened, with the rental key indeed in the trunk, he scoots off as fast as he can. After all, it is very evident that the wife and I are NOT speaking and NOT happy and we are NOT rational.
We didn't go to the beach.
We didn't do our laundry.
We didn't talk to each other for the rest of the day.
We definitely didn't walk anywhere.
We go to our hotel room and sit in silence.
Our adult vacation is coming to a very silent ending.
(I think I might have thrown those shoes in the garbage. I know the wife threw out her surf socks.)
In the morning, we drive to the airport to take the rental car back and catch our flight. I don't give the rental key the spare key I had made. Piss on them. I'm keeping that key. I mutter about them needing to cut the plastic keys in the glove box but say nothing more. Dirty laundry squished into our packed bags, limping toward the gate, we are ready to come home.
We get home, barely able to walk for the next week. The blisters tell the story. We get the film developed and enjoy the photos. There is one of the wife standing near Huntington Beach. It's the last photo of the trip. Thankfully, she is smiling. That's because she has NO idea of what is about to transpire.
Ignorance truly is bliss.
Adulting is overrated.
Adulting is overrated.
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Fast forward to today.
We have cell phones and real printers.
We have mobile apps with all sorts of maps and information.
We have Uber and Lyft and all sorts of ways to get from here to there.
Floppy disks and pagers are nowhere to be seen.
We have cell phones and real printers.
We have mobile apps with all sorts of maps and information.
We have Uber and Lyft and all sorts of ways to get from here to there.
Floppy disks and pagers are nowhere to be seen.
There is automated customer service.
We have that extra car rental key.
We have that extra car rental key.
I hang that extra key on the Christmas tree every year.
Yes, three-plus decades later, I still hang that key on the tree.
Now we can laugh.
I'm gonna hang that key on the tree every damn year until kingdom come.
Yes, three-plus decades later, I still hang that key on the tree.
Now we can laugh.
I'm gonna hang that key on the tree every damn year until kingdom come.
Today, there is 24-hour customer service,
cars with foldout seats with access to the trunk,
satellite services that can unlock your car from anywhere.
Today, no one drives Geo Prisms
or has stupid plastic keys in the glove box
or wears cheap huarache sandals.
Dirty undies in your luggage doesn't matter.
cars with foldout seats with access to the trunk,
satellite services that can unlock your car from anywhere.
Today, no one drives Geo Prisms
or has stupid plastic keys in the glove box
or wears cheap huarache sandals.
Dirty undies in your luggage doesn't matter.
I know why.
The wife knows why.
1989 knows why.
Now you know why, too.
The wife knows why.
1989 knows why.
Now you know why, too.
Next Christmas, don't forget to look for the car key hanging on the tree.
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And no, in case you're wondering: I've never rented a car from the company ever again.
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1989. First adult vacation.
I'm glad to see we've had some excellent vacations since then.
We've had plenty of clean undies.
We've had plenty of car rentals.
I'm glad to see we've had some excellent vacations since then.
We've had plenty of clean undies.
We've had plenty of car rentals.
I've yet to lock the keys in the rental car again.
Knock on wood.
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