File this under: This would only happen to Sabrina.
A few weeks ago, I was dog sitting for a friend of mine while she was in Bermuda. She also left me keys to her car because there was to be a lot of shuffling the pups between the two houses and animals aren't allowed on the Metro. I guess I could have tried to sneak Rocky, but the minute he tried to hide (to run) behind me because of the noise, we would be screwed.
Anyway, one night I took the dogs out for their last walk of the night. Even though my friend was on her cruise in April, it was cold here in D.C. As I was getting everything ready, the dogs were going crazy. I was trying to make sure I had leashes, poop bags, keys, and gloves all the while the dogs were barking, whining and jumping on me. Once I had everything ready (or so I thought) out we went.
The walk itself was relatively uneventful. I had Zoe on a leash and Rocky off. It's just easier this way. Anyway, we came into the fenced yard about 15 minutes later ready to go in. I rummaged my pockets for the keys and found the inside door key. The outdoor key was nowhere to be found. I didn't panic right away, because there is a back door. Unfortunately for me, the locks are not the same. I still didn't panic and started searching for a spare. Maybe it's just me, but I always have a spare outside of every house I have ever lived in. It was late and the lighting wasn't great and I could not find the spare anywhere.
Still not panicking yet, I decided to knock on a few neighbors doors. It was late, probably close to 11:30 at this point. I knocked on like three doors and nada. No one came to the door. My next option was to walk to the closest gas station. Keep in mind that I did not have a leash for Rocky. After a few minutes of back and forth, I bit the bullet and started walking.
I only went about a block before I ran into someone who had a cell phone he let me use to call a locksmith. He happened to have used a locksmith a couple of weeks before (no, I didn't ask why) so he was able to help me right away.
After a while, the locksmith came. Right now, I want to stop and describe to you what I looked like in this moment. I was wearing a bright blue jacket. Like I could be seen five blocks away in pitch darkness kind of blue. I was also wearing plaid flannel pajamas, house shoes, hair in a pony tail, no makeup, and finally no bra. I am painting this picture, so when I tell you the locksmith refused to help me, you'll be as outraged as I was.
The locksmith came and was a nightmare. First, he wanted to be paid first. We went round and round with this. You could actually see my wallet sitting on the coffee table from the window and he still wanted to be paid first. Finally, he agreed to "help". By help, I mean he asked me three questions about the door. I couldn't answer any of them. He actually said to me, "I'm not going to help you break into this house." Really?
Anyway, the one thing the locksmith did was let me use his cell phone to call the police. By this time it is after 1:00am in the morning and we've been outside for two hours.
The police came and were sympathetic to my situation, but they couldn't help me get into the house without proof that I lived there. Apparently, the bright blue jacket, the dogs in the yard, and the lights on in the house weren't enough. Regardless, the police officers were very nice and offered to give me a ride somewhere. Give me a ride. The dogs would have to stay there.
I couldn't do it. I just couldn't leave them there for who knows how long. I didn't know when or how I would get back. It was so late, that even if I went to my house, public transportation had quit running so I didn't have a way to get back. The police officer left with the promise that he would be back to check on me.
At this point, I was just about to hit panic mode. I sat down on the front steps and was about to start bawling. Up until this point, I had been pretty proud about how I had handled myself. I had not gotten angry or yelled (even at the locksmith). I hadn't cried. I even played with the dogs a little (who were champs through this whole thing). But when the police left, the dam almost broke, until I saw someone approaching the gate.
The guy whose cell phone I had used earlier saw me still in the yard and came to check on me. I didn't care or ask why he was there, I was just happy to see a somewhat familiar face. He asked what I was still doing out and I ran down the whole situation. His response was, "No. We are getting you into this house tonight."
He walked around the house with me looking for a way to get in. We decided to try to go in through the window that the air conditioner was in. I had already tried to break it earlier, but couldn't do it by myself. Within about five minutes, we were able to break the frame together. I then had to crawl in the window, avoiding a radiator and a glass table. The first thing I saw was the damn key laying on the rug right in front of the door. It must have fallen out of my pocket when I was getting the dogs ready for their walk.
The guy who helped was really, really nice and refused any payment. He just made me promise to make sure I kept the keys on me.
Premise of the story: Always make sure you have your keys, or at least know where the spare is.
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