Keys Please?

I woke up periodically throughout the night in cold sweats. I felt gross at 6 a.m. when it was time to get up. I could tell it was going to be a rough morning.

I showered, put on the clothes I was going to wear to work, balked at the idea of food (no way my stomach could handle it), said goodbye to Alex as he left for work, and took the dog outside for her walk. It was going to be a short one – I was sick. Really sick. Could I honestly go in to the office?

There was so much work to do! Not to mention the staff meeting – which I pathetically look forward to every month. But there was no way… I was too sick.

Tequila and I wandered around outside. It was a beautiful day… slightly overcast, but the fresh air was soothing. I called in. Then, because I’m a big baby, I do what I always do when I don’t feel well or something goes wrong… I called my Mommy.

We chatted, I walked around some more, got hit on my several strange men, spoke French to some passing strangers, and headed back towards my apartment. It was about then that the shit really hit the fan.

My pants had no pockets. So, in an effort to not loose my keys, I attached them to one of those big, heavy-duty bangladiers and clipped them to my waste. As I reached for them to let myself back into my building, I noticed the clip was broken… and the keys were gone.

Shit.

The real problem here is two-fold: as an illegal sub-leasee, I have no idea who our landlord or super is. And, as the apartment is pet friendly, even if I did know how to get in touch with them, I couldn’t – unless I was willing to have them meet Tequila. Either way, I wasn’t in a good spot.

So much for my nice relaxing day on the couch with Animal Crossing and ginger ale.

So what did I do? Called Mummy again. “Only you, Catherine. Only you.”

Heading her advice, I retraced my steps. Twice. No sign of the keys. I called the Cambridge Public Works – they wouldn’t know if keys were found until the end of the shift… at 3:00 p.m. I tried Harvard – no sign of keys there.

Sitting on a bench in Cambridge Common, I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. Honestly, this just figures. This stuff happens to me all the time. I was sick, given the opportunity to rest up by calling in, and now stuck outside losing the keys I had acquired over my lifetime.

What was on them? My whistle from the good old days of serving as a lifeguard at the Mendon Town Beach. My key to my parents’ house in Mendon, which I finally got just months before, having somehow survived my teenage years without one. No car keys… I don’t have a car. A St. John’s lanyard – a gift from an ex-boyfriend that I was long overdue to rid myself of. And – most importantly - my apartment key, of which we had no spare. Alex was my only hope.

Of course he didn’t have his cell on and he wasn’t at his desk.

I didn’t have any money, so I could take the T. I didn’t have money, so I couldn’t buy water for me or my dog – who was crying with exhaustion. I didn’t have any money, so there was really no hope of me doing anything but wander the streets of Cambridge with my dog.

Mummy to the rescue! My mother, who swore she’d never drive into town, promised to come in and get me, and together we’d show up at Alex’s work and demand the spare key. I decided I’d walk towards her in an effort to lessen the time she’d spend city-driving, which she hates.

At 11:00, over three-hours after Tequila and I left the apartment this morning, I finally found my mother. Together, we headed towards Waltham.

When I called Alex, I left messages that got increasingly more panicked as time went on. “Alex, it’s Catherine, call me when you get this.” “Alex, it’s your sister, call me as soon as you can – it’s important.” “Alex, I’m in a little trouble and need your help. Please call me. It’s urgent.”

My mother called twice. First, she left a message: “Alex, it’s your mother. Your sister lost her keys and has been wandering the streets of Cambridge for hours with her dog, and she’s sick. Call me.”

The second time she called the operator. “Hi, could you please page my son?”

Let me tell you – that got him on the phone fast.

Of course, getting quickly to Waltham was another story. Mum, Tequila and I were lost, driving through Waltham, for another half hour or so.

Long story long, we found my brother. We went to some shady locksmith where they’d make a couple copies of the key – despite the “DO NOT DUPLICATE” warning on the back. We called my dad, and the four of us had lunch in Waltham.

And around 6:00 – just before I’d normally be coming home from work – the four of us arrived back at my apartment for dinner… without having rested at all. Some sick day.


But it is a testament to what a wonderful family I have – my mother leaving work to rescue me, my father making special trips to ensure my mother wouldn’t have to drive home, and today my brother bought me a new bangladier… but one with a clip that screws on instead of springs.