Home Alone

Have you ever had a thought and then what you thought actually happened? I don’t mean that when you’re sitting on the couch watching the season premier of “American Idol” and the thought comes to you, “Hey, I think I’ll get some ice cream,” and then you get some ice cream. That’s not the sort of thought I’m thinking about. The thoughts I’m referring to are the ones that come in a snap of time, usually accompanied by a sudden sense of foreboding. It’s just a tidbit of warning that’s easily ignored and explained away. If we have a lot of these feelings, warnings, or worries we’re called paranoid schizophrenics. I worry about a lot of things, but the other day one of these warning shots fired through my brain like light fire. At the moment I am living single. Jan is back in Utah taking care of Brittany, Clay and Maeli. I think she really just needed time away from me and used the grandbaby thing as an excuse. I knew I would miss her but I can fend pretty well on my own. I can shop, cook, clean, exist, as well as any man. I was actually looking forward to her being gone for a few days so I could eat the food I wanted; like spiced ham, aka spam, donuts, french fries and a cake, that’s right, a whole cake. The day after she left I came down with a horrendous cold that has sent waves of fluid through my respiratory system and caused my voice to resonate like Darth Vader. My head has felt like it’s been filled with floam and, although I’ve eaten the food I wanted, my taste buds, well, they don’t taste. On Tuesday I had this slingshot of an idea pulse through my brain that I referred to several paragraphs before. “Hey Greg, you’re all alone. What if you lock your keys in the car or lock yourself out of the house?” I just chuckled as I locked the front door and sped away in my little white Corolla. I mean, it’s been awhile since I’ve locked myself out of anywhere. Besides, only Megan Byers does that. I love Fridays. However, this Friday I debated calling in sick or just letting someone find me dead. But, being the loyal idiot that I am, I readied myself for work. Locking the front door I turned the engine of the Corolla on to warm it up while I scrapped the layers of ice that had formed like limestone during the night. Having cleared a few spots I pulled on the drivers side door handle and…it didn’t budge. I had somehow locked the door, keys in the ignition, car running, house also locked up with house key on the car keychain. My first thought was, “Wow, the inside of the car will be really warm by the time I get this figured out.” At least I had my cell phone. It didn’t work when I tried to use it to pry open the door so I decided to use it to phone a friend. I called Jan. Luckily, she answered even though she saw it was me that was calling. I explained my situation, she googled (has this word been officially adopted into the English dictionary yet?) towing companies and after trying to write phone numbers down on the side of the house (paint will cover it) I called for help. I waved to neighbors as I did jumping jacks on my porch trying to keep warm in the freezing fog. When Jimmy the tow truck guy came I threw my arms around his neck, grabbed his gloved hand in mine and rapidly pumped his arm in a gratuitous life saving handshake. I think I frightened him a bit. I watched intently as he pried the upper right corner of the door slightly open with a wedge then placed a rubber pad in the space. He then pumped this up a few times to make a little more space. Jimmy pulled out a long metal rod that he inserted through the crack in the door and pushed it against the door lock button on the door. Easy as that and the door was unlocked. When I opened the door a whoosh of warm air escaped from the car and mingled with the cold winter mist. I think the added warmth moved Spring up several weeks. I regretted I hadn’t given heed to the earlier warning. Besides the stress this situation created I think I set my cold recovery back a few days, I was 45 minutes late to work, and had to put up with the sly chuckles from fellow employees who knew but didn’t tell about my situation. It also cost me tens of dollars. On the bright side my neighbors know I am certified crazy so I can act however I want, and I have taken precautions to not have this ever happen to me again. I have found a set of spare keys and hidden them in case I ever need to use them. Now, if only I could remember where that was…