locked out, but not for long

I'm in Ashland!  I'm super tired, but I wanted tell you about THIS THING, which could have been so bad, but turned out to be a pretty good experience apart from how it took all my cash money. Mom and I arrived in Ashland late this afternoon. (We made many stops on the way down from Portland, but I'm not going to talk about those now. Know that there was ice cream and that it's sunny and in the 70s.) Long story short: I locked the keys in the car. All of the keys! My keys, her keys, everybody's keys. I was driving around town (it's an awesome little town) and ended up on Vista avenue - the light was beautiful and I thought it would be nice to get out and take some pictures because the vista was worth naming a street for, after all. As we were heading back to the car, I realized I'd carefully put my keys in the side pocket of my purse (where they go!) and then decided at the last minute to leave the purse in the car.  I was carrying two cameras which distracted me, BUT STILL.

Anyway. There we are - it's starting to get dark, no keys, no phone (also in purse), no AAA, no nothin' - stuck up on fancy street without a soul around. For some reason I knew we'd get it figured out. We walked down an alley to a road that led to Main St. It wasn't far, but it was steep - at least it was down hill. It was after 6, so a lot of the regular places I might think would be inclined to help a stranded traveler (chamber of commerce, library, bank, etc.) were closed. Pretty much the only things still open were lots and lots of small fancy restaurants. (Ashland has a lot of small fancy restaurants.) We got down to the main part of town and noticed a gas station - not only was it open, but it was a gas station with a garage. There was one young guy working (Cory) and I got right to the point - we're locked out, have no phone, no nothing, etc. did he know of a locksmith? He did! He couldn't find the business card that he thought was hanging up in the garage, but he looked up the guy on his phone and then let me use the garage's phone to call. I call the number, which is a guy who has his own mobile locksmith business. He was just getting ready to make dinner, but agreed to come down right away since it wasn't far. After asking the make and model of the car, he said he could pick one of us up at the garage (me) so I could show him where the car was. (I was the one who had cash so I went with him and came back down the hill to pick up mom.) The locksmith turned out to be not only not an ax-murderer, but a very mellow and totally affable dude-bro - one who was able to get the car open in less than a minute.  Success!

If I had to lock the keys in the car, it couldn't have been resolved much easier than this. Thing I learned: ask for what you need; people can be kind. I tend to try to do things myself if I can, but short of breaking my fist trying to break the glass there was no way I was going to get into that car myself. Thanks to Cory and Nameless Affable Locksmith Dude-Bro, what could have been a very traumatic experience* was just a thing that happened.

*I keep imagining what would have happened if I'd done the same thing in the deep dark middle of some seldom-visited state park - a distinct possibility. It always ends with us being eaten by bears.

(soooo tired! I'm sure it had nothing to do with the giant milkshake consumed earlier in the day.)


Unrelated Links:

1) How to Steal Like an Artist

2) Amanda Palmer sees Duran Duran (this is especially for Anonymous T.)