Sunday, August 24, 2008

A Filament Short of a Dim Bulb...

Sometimes, I say really stupid shit. Usually, it's good for a hearty laugh between me and the person who heard me say what starts out as a going-with-the-flow-of-the-conversation comment but instantaneously devolves into a "WTF?!"


Earlier this week, I parked Bee's car in the back and accidentally got landscaping sand in her Passat grill. (For those wondering how you get sand in your grill, I overestimated where the pile of sand was relative to the end of the car.) When she went out to go running, I followed her so I could sweep the majority of the sand out of the grill. No point in blowing it all into the radiator, right?

After I finished and she'd driven off, I turned around to go back into the house and discovered I'd been locked out.

"Aaaaaaah!" was my exact reaction, followed by a string of expletives that would make a sailor blush. In addition to being locked out, I was also bare foot and braless. And, the Asian Tiger mosquitoes I so detest, but who love me, were out in force. In short, this was not a good situation.

Fortunately, the weather has been very nice lately, so I've had the windows open on the house (at least, I've had open the six windows out of 19 that function.) Thank God for good weather, otherwise I'd have been screwed. And eaten alive.

Clambering over a pile of salvaged brick and balancing on a bundle of precariously leaning tiles, I hoisted myself over to the bathroom window. I managed to jimmy out the screen without actually destroying it and then began the colossal effort of getting myself through the window. Let's just say, it wasn't pretty and I'm covered in bruises. But I was in, mosquito free, and I could return to watching It's Me or the Dog, which is really all that matters, right?


So last night, Bee and I are watching some telly when we start talking about where we can hide a key so getting locked out never, ever happens to either of us again. This is how the conversation went from there.

Bee: We need to find a better place to hide a key.

Jay: Mm-hm. (Pause in conversation.) I know if you'd had your cell phone with you, you'd have come back. I'd do the same for you.

Bee: Yeah, except you never have your cell phone on.

Jay: (Chuckling) True. Kind of pathetic to even have one if it isn't on. Of course, it would be our luck and the day you get locked out, I'll be at my parents for five or six hours. But I'd turn around and come home to let you in.

Pause in conversation

Jay: You have my parents' home number, right?

Bee: I use to. I think I need to get it again.

Jay: Well, worst case, if you get locked out, just check the caller ID on the phone. It's always in there.

Bee: (laughing) If I'm out there and the phone is in here, that doesn't work, does it?

Jay: (realization of stupidity dawning on me, I start laughing, too) Yeah, I guess that doesn't work, does it?

Bee: That was really dumb.


And that, friends, is the first time in seven years Bee has ever called me dumb.

In this case, it was wholly justified!


NG said...

If Bee lived in my house, she'd find occasion to say something like that about one of us 7 times a day.

Cele said...

Ohmigosh, what if I told you I keep the key in my locked garage?

Anonymous said...

ditto to what ng said, only it would be more like two times a week. Once I locked myself out when I had two small children. I hoisted my child up to an open window like a practiced cat burglar.

Now we have a clever place for a spare key. Even more clever than inside a locked garage.

J.M. Tewkesbury said...

NG: Oh, I'm sure she has plenty of opportunity with me, but somehow she refrains. I have no doubt it's hard for her, because so often I open the door so wide open, it falls off its hinges.

Cele: Well, that's a good place for it! That way, you know it's safe, right?

Phoebe: That's what I need: cleverness. Yesterday's comment was proof of my lack thereof. And even worse? When I shared this story with my family, they all agreed that using the caller ID to retrieve their phone number was a good idea until I delivered the punch line. Conclusion: I'm stupid and so is my family!

Anonymous said...

I guarantee that once you hide a spare key in case of getting locked out, you'll never get locked out again. And if Bee programs your parents' number, she'll never need to call it. It's some sort of karmic insurance for the superstitious or unlucky. Or something. :-)

- Di

lacochran said...

At least you found a way in. I managed to lock myself out with wet hair in the snow and had to find a neighbor to let me in so I could call for access. The neighbors were right in the middle of watching The Price is Right. So there I sat watching it with them for 20 minutes, waiting. Awkward.

j.m. tewkesbury said...

Di: The irony isn't lost on me, esp. since we once did have a key hidden outside, then I found it on the pavement a couple of weeks ago and pocketed it. My plan was to find a new place for it. Of course, that's when you get locked out. Prior to that, we'd never been locked out. Sometimes, the Gods of Irony aren't so funny.

Lacochran: Oh, that is awkward. And cold. Although, I think I'd much prefer snow and cold versus muggy and mosquito-y. Then again, maybe not. One's as bad and uncomfortable as the other, and both are infinitely embarrassing.

Lucy said...

Here's another way. You get locked out of the house by 'somebody else'. After using up blood pressure on that fact alone, you go to the laundry room window and do a heave-ho with a good sized rock. Then you pick up a kid and shove him through it telling him to UNLOCK THE DAMMM DOOR while he's on his way through. When he does that, you check kid for cuts/gashes/blood and then CPS and cops
while filing for divorce for the second sentence of this saga. There! I feel all better now. I wonder if boychild remembers that.

j.m. tewkesbury said...

Lucy: Oy. Sounds like that was fun! Here's hoping that's a distant memory for the BoyChild!