There’s no worse feeling that the blood-curdling realization that you’ve locked yourself out of your own apartment or car. This has embarrassingly happened to me a few times in the past year. This post is a chronicle of my stupidity.

Scenario 1: It’s a cold January day. The keys are sitting in ignition and the car’s started up to warm up the interior/ defrost the windows. I close the driver’s side door, scurrying off to clean off all the snow and ice that accumulated overnight. I attempt to re-enter the car. DAMMIT. The doors are all locked.

• Solution: Borrow Dave’s car to drive to my parents house in Lincolnwood and pick up the spare key. I left my car running for about 30 minutes in total.
• Lesson learned: Irrationally roll a window down or leave door open while brushing off car. Or just clean off the car without idling the car (which is supposed to be bad for it, anyways).

Scenario 2: Lauren and I decide to stay in, watch a movie, and order some take-out Chinese food. We drive over and pick up said Chinese food. We get back to my apartment. DAMMIT. I left my house keys in my other coat pocket.

• Solution 1: Call landlord. She left the building 30 minutes ago.
• Solution 2: Call Dave. He’s in Pilsen. Pick up drunk Dave from Lagunitas Brewing company.
• Lesson Learned: Have only one coat for all seasons.

Scenario 3: I’m working a half-day. I wake up, throw on some pants, and head out for work. I work for a few hours and come back home in the early afternoon. DAMMIT. I left my house keys on my dresser-drawer.

• Solution: Call landlord. She opens the door for me! And having been called upon to open her tenant’s door twice, she gives me the best advice: Don’t forget your keys!
• Lesson Learned: Maybe I should get a spare key and hide it in a rock.

Scenario 4: I don’t remember where I was, but I remember feeling my back pocket and realizing I didn’t have my house keys on me. DAMMIT. I’m the worst.

• Solution: Luckily Dave was home when I got back to the apartment and he buzzed me in.
• Lesson Learned: Never let Dave leave the apartment.

And here’s the latest boneheaded move by me, this past weekend.

Scenario 5: After going to church with Lauren, I head over to Costco to get some super cheap gas, get my bulk quantity shoppang on, and maybe get a hot dog or sandwich for lunch. Many cars are lining up for extremely cheap gas, so I have to wait 10 minutes to self-serve my car up some $2 regular-unleaded. Costco is packed with Sunday grocery shoppers and the lines for the cash registers look like hell on earth. I’m hungry now. All I want is to get rung up and to get a sandwich from the Costco food court shortly thereafter.  The line for the food court looks to be another 10 minute wait. “Screw it, I’ll just eat at home,” I think to myself. “Oh, and I think I’ve got a stick of string cheese in my car’s trunk!” I exit Costco and throw my groceries in the trunk. I reach for the string cheese, close the trunk, and put away my shopping cart. I reach for the car keys in pocket and my eyes open wide. Wait. I frantically start searching around my car and in my now empty cart for my car keys.“Did I drop my keys in the trunk while I was getting that string cheese?”  DAMMIT. I’m stuck at Costco.

• Solution 1: Call home/mom’s cell phone to see if she can drive over and bring my spare key. She doesn’t answer.
• Solution 2: Call Lauren to come pick me up. I go back to the food court and wait in line to woof down a sandwich to ease the hunger pangs. Lauren arrives and we drive to my parents place. Pick up the spare. Drive back to Costco. Retrieve dropped keys from trunk.
• Lesson Learned: Never leave string cheese in my trunk ever again.

Normally, I am very meticulous when it comes to checking if I have everything (wallet, keys, phone) as I’m about to leave. Really. I’m only a dummy sometimes.

My keys. Bottlehook keeps house keys on jeans (and opens beer bottles).
Bears lanyard helps keep car keys visible. Like the football team, sometimes it doesn’t do a good job.