Flaky, flaky, flaky

  

This is not me. This is my sainted site supervisor, saving my ass.

I made the train this morning. For me to make a 9 AM train is something of a miracle but I find that I can pull it off pretty regularly, these days. I got off at the right station and found the cab that was waiting for me. This is all good and for me, not at all automatic. Then, halfway to the house, I realized that I had forgotten my keys. All my keys. One gate, one car, two houses. Maybe it was a Freudian slip, as I have two sets for the apartment.

I did the only reasonable thing. I called Kieron and asked him to break into my house. “Can you wait 45 minutes?” As the locksmiths I had called had not even answered the phone, sure, I could wait all day.

Silly me, having the locks changed. The new super cylinders took two hours to drill through.

So okay, I’ll find a place to stash a spare key. You’d think I would have thought of that before.

Now I get to rent a car.

8 thoughts on “Flaky, flaky, flaky

  1. I once drove 1300 km to my house in Brittany and realised on arrival that I’d forgotten my keys. Luckily, I’d given a set to my local handyman (you ALWAYS need a handyman in France) and I had left a spare set hanging up inside. so I felt very smug as well as silly.

    Like

    1. Live and learn. Too true about needing the handyman. The number of fiddly little things that need doing over here is amazing. Mine is on vacation, thus my dilemma. The backup set is now securely stashed. I am now considering a third line of defense, a “to go” box containing everything I will need on the trip. Obviously piling everything together wasn’t enough to get the keys from the tabletop into my bag. So I’ll look for something pretty of an appropriate size and put it to work.

      Liked by 1 person

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