Sunday, January 1, 2006
Started off like most other late afternoon holiday eves, me alone perusing Ventura Ave. looking for any OPEN under-10 dollar restaurant. Settled on bagels near Winnetka, finished that off with an LA Times and grande vanilla mocha at Starbucks – the Starbucks card I used was a gift, stole the newspaper.
Things were good, time to shoppe for supplements at the Vitamin Shop.
So who do I run into? You got it, Sinbad! And yes, he’s Blue Tooth. We leave each other alone, respecting the comedian code, which is don’t bother Sinbad when he’s looking for fiber in the Digestive Aids section.
Next stop, how about Best Buy? – just to touch base, check out the new releases, browse CD piles and get a final jolt of 2005’s Jesus Xmas shopping buzz. Not much out there, I’m saving up for summer (that’s what I tell myself).
While leaving, I decide to get my camera out of my trunk, wanna take pictures while the sun is still out. Never know what ya may find, gotta be ready. Roads were slick and I was looking for sirens! Kidding. I know, shouldn’t joke. OK, yellow police tape, is this wrong? (in closing for this paragraph, essentially, I was eager to photoblog)
Anyway, pop the trunk in modest rain, grab my trusty 3.2 mega-pix’ler, place keys in trunk, get distracted organizing old DVD’s and baseball bats, slam trunk shut, walk around to driver side, attempt to unlock, no key, pocket here, pocket there, coins and pockets everywhere, camera, tokens, bringer show set list, wallet, several of my own business cards, phone and nothing else.
Locked keys into trunk on New Year’s Eve, stranded in the nation’s busiest Best Buy parking lot. Yeah!
So I call AAA, been a member since 1975. In 78 they came out for a bike flat, true story. Had mags, believe it was a Webco. Yesterday, the guy arrives in 20 minutes, says he’ll slim-jim the door. Boom, door is opened, alarm goes off, I jump in and go straight for the glove compartment, press the trunk release button…
Nothing. Alarm blaring, children crying, I scurry to the back seat, hope to go through middle arm rest, stoned by metal. No chance, we’re done, lost. On the bright side, alarm shut off after a couple minutes. The guy did his job. Unfortunately, I have an electronic hatch system, won’t work without key and/or security activated.
Whatever.
So now I’m actually trapped INSIDE my car, afraid the alarm is gonna go off again. One hour has elapsed, becoming dusk. Once more, gotta call AAA, this time for a Locksmith. Some background, no one is home at our family condo, can’t get a spare, gotta pee, sweaty inside car, talking to loved ones on the phone, contemplating situation, looking back on my life, etc…
Finally, I decide to go for it. Need air, gonna open door from the inside.
Click, door open, alarm goes off again, horn honking, I feverishly, yet manually lock and unlock handles, outsmarting the security system, bringing calm to the whole situation within 55 seconds. Only a few stares and glances.
Still no key. That’s in the trunk, remember?
Back to the Locksmith, takes about an hour for him to show up – no problem, happy he’s here. Oh, he’s got keys – thousands, and he’s looking for one. Literally a huge box of keys, he says there’s a 98% chance one of these keys will work on the trunk. After about 20 minutes or so, no luck.
The Best Buy parking lot is thinning out, people are getting ready to party and I’m stuck here thirsty, shivering and needing to go numero uno (couldn’t leave, felt like I had to support this guy). Plan B? Take off passenger door panel, unhinge lock, find five-digit code, make key in Locksmith van, open trunk to Brody’s car.
Would you believe after another 60 minutes, several bolts, clasps and wires, Steve the Locksmith from Simi Valley got to the code. We wrote it down, he put the door back together, climbed into his white van, punched the code into his palm pilot, the DOS program popped up, typed in numbers and car info, pulled the corresponding card shuffled away in his vast filing system, placed the card in his portable key machine, buzzed and drilled, came out with a silver key.
He walked over to my trunk, put the key in and turned it. Bingo! Trunk was open, my trapped keys were there, red from shame. The ordeal was over and the storyline complete. Over three hours since innocently waking out of Best Buy in a good mood thinking of New Year’s Eve festivities, an early dinner and the Sleeper Cell billboard I was gonna snap a picture of for this VERY website.
Due to the unforeseen and now-legendary fiasco (thanks legion of links), I immediately RACED to Carl’s Jr. for their Famous Star and urinal. Additionally, New Year’s wasn’t festive and me posing with terrorists will just have to wait for another sunny day.
Oh, all this breaking into cars and Steve the Locksmith’s theory on Murphy’s Law, including the relativity of AAA dues cost me $115.
By far, not my best buy of 2005.
