Lets talk about keys
That's right, instead of hte usual gun talk or the other fun stuff I talk about on this blog, my topic of the day is keys. I know you're probably thinking that I'be been huffing the Hoppe's no. 9 again, but I assure you I haven't.
Randy and Lisa were absent Tuesday and Wednesday of this week, Lisa was spending time with family and Randy was off teaching. If I were an employee here I would be so incredibly happy that this was the case because while the cats away, the mice will play, but I'm no mouse and since I actually care about our business, I tried to keep up....which I failed miserably at, but atleast I gave it a go....this week just enforced the fact that there is no way I could run this joint all on my own.
On a normal day when I'm not running around like a head with my chicken cut off, I'll lock the shop door when going into the office, and lock the office door when I'm in the shop, that way the place is more secure. When I walk out of each door, before I close a locked door, I check my keys are in my pocket. Well this hasn't been a normal week for me so in my haste leaving the shop, I hit my pants pocket and felt a lump in there and heard a clink, so I promptly closed the door, went to open the office door and froze stiff. My keys weren't where they were supposed to be.....there was a pen in my pocket and a couple of quarters that gave me the familiar tactile sense of something in my pocket and a clink when my hand hit my pocket. Standing there frozen in front of the locked door, I checked both doors to see if I had left either unlocked.....of coarse not, why would it be that easy? I tried the windows and as expected, they were sealed tight.
With nothing left to do but wait until Lisa got back into town to let me in, I text Lisa telling her what happened.....to which she responded to with general amusement and (doubtless in my mind) cackling of the most voracious sort. Since I keep the dog leashes in the back of the truck, I leashed up my filthy killers and set off for home. Luckily for me, it's only about a mile and a half walk home. The funny part about this is that while I was driving back from Range Master in SLO, I was thinking to myself that it was such a nice day out and that I should take the beasts for a walk. I guess the universe was trying to tell me something.
Now that I have my keys back all is right in the universe and the answer is still.....42.