An Embarrassing Story

Two weeks ago, Ryan and I had time to kill before he went to work. So what did we do? We sat in his car and ate yummy little Costco turkey wraps! Mmmm...It was a perfect pre-work snack. We ate and ate until our bellies were quite full and content, and then I walked him to work.

About half way there I turned to him and asked for the keys. "I need them to drive home," I explained.

He looked at me. The confusion in his eyes quickly turning to panic. "I thought I gave them to you."

Nope.

We quickly ran, well, speedily walked, back to the car, and peered through the car window, looking like little kids eyeing a toy store window. There, sitting in the passenger seat, placed right next to the perfectly wrapped little turkey rolls, sat Ryan's keys. I could almost hear them taunting me through the tinted window. "Nananananana! You caaaan't get meee!"

Well, there was only one option to do. Call BYU info.

We quickly dialed their number, and after a little snicker from the operator, they transferred us to the BYU auto shop. Lucky for us, they told us a little secret.

If we waited ten more minutes, they would be closed and the campus police would have to get the keys out, free of charge. I thought they were doing us a favor. But really, they probably just wanted to go home and not deal with our key fiasco.

I sent Ryan off to work, telling him I would tackle this endeavor.

He called BYU police for me, and I sat by the car and waited for them.

And waited.

And waited some more.

A cop car, a cop golf cart, and several people looking at me strangely came and went. I even had a couple people ask me if I was okay and then knowingly told me to call BYU police. Thanks.

Finally, after a long, grueling 45 minutes later, a big, Tongan police man came to my rescue. He said sorry for the wait, but the other policemen were called away due to an emergency situation. Y'know, like people ducknapping the ducks south of campus.

Anyways, I signed a little waiver saying that if he damaged the car, he wasn't liable. I think I said something like I trusted him, in which he responded, in his thick Tongan accent, "Don't. I am the worst one at this." I laughed at what I THOUGHT was a joke. Boy was I wrong.

After trying all sorts of methods, arguing over which button unlocked the car, and a scratch or two later, the cop finally was victorious in unlocking the door. The passenger door on the other side of the car. He was also victorious in setting off the car alarm. Frazzled, I ran to the other side and was trying everything to stop the ear-splitting car alarm from sounding off--turning on the engine, unlocking the door, locking the door, and begging. But to no avail.

After awhile, people started looking and glaring at me.

I shot a quick glance at the police officer who was getting into his car about to pull away.

I shouted at him over the blaring noise, panicked. "Do you know how to turn this thing off?"

He kind of looked at me and shrugged. "It's your car."

Mind you, it was RYAN'S CAR!!!

By then, everyone was looking at me. Even the few stray ducks that wandered my way.

What a sight.

Car alarm going off, a police man. They probably thought I was a criminal. Moms were probably yanking their kids away from me. I was humiliated.

And the cop just watched.

Finally, the usually broken automatic car unlocker, silenced the piercing siren. Phew. The police man just said, "See! You just learned how to turn off your car alarm." And drove away.

Meanie.

Lucky for Ryan, he was sitting behind his nice warm, check out counter the entire time.

Maybe someday soon I will be able to regain my hearing. And my pride.

But on the bright side, at least it was free!