Yesterday, I left the last half hour of papers ungraded and the batch before them unrecorded so that I could make it to Centerville in time to get to an open meat counter. When I got home, I drove the Acura right up next to the stoop to unload, took one armful of refrigerated goods into the house, and came out to find ALL THREE SETS OF KEYS LOCKED IN THE CAR.
Along with the two jugs of milk and three packages of frozen potatoes, a small amount of meat, and fruit. If it froze, I lose the fruit. If it didn't, I lose the potatoes.
Deciding not to call late at night, I waited until this morning to make the 911 call to find out the name and number of a locksmith.
"911; what is your emergency?"
"I don't have one. I just need some information."
Bored voice, "Okay. Go ahead."
"I locked all three sets of keys in the car."
"I won't have a deputy available until mid-morning. You could call the Centerville locksmith."
He reads me two numbers, one of which I write VERY BIG, as the glasses are also locked in the car. Since I was not expecting a second number, I had to write much smaller to get it on the paper in the room remaining.
I called my neighbor with all the farm tools, but locksmithing is not in his repertoire. He suggested calling the police or a locksmith.
The Centerville number did not answer, so I tried to call the cell phone, but couldn't read it.
911 did not crack a smile as he patiently repeated the number for the cell. I read it back.
When it finally got answered, the voice was very faint, and accompanied by a LOT of rustling before I heard any words at all. I couldn't understand what he said.
"I'm out of service this weekend. I'm on my honeymoon."
I bet he thinks some of his good buddies put me up to making that call! I apologized profusely and hung up.
911 will send a deputy out sometime. Even relating the honeymoon elicited no smile. I hope he's just a dour person, not that he's had a rough night.
If the deputy comes too late, I may lose everything that needs to stay cold.