Week 49

Sometimes I seek out new wine, and sometimes it seeks out me.

We have had some neighborhood break-ins lately. Mostly the thieves grab small things that are plainly seen and quickly taken. It is probably just kids, but it has the neighbors talking, and has even generated an article or two in the paper. It got to the point where Darien was getting nervous, so she decided we should start using our deadbolts.

We are not stupid people, but we are sometimes forgetful, so we always keep an extra key secreted away outside. Just in case. Since the deadbolts are on different keys than the doorknobs, I asked her to be careful and not on start locking the deadbolts until we had a second key outside. OK, she says. She went and had duplicate keys made and put little nails next to all the doors where we could hang them when the deadbolt was in place so no one could simply break the window and turn the inside key. We are not stupid people.

This was on Tuesday. On Thursday morning, Darien left for work before I did. I was preoccupied with thinking about the meeting I had scheduled with my staff for 9 AM that morning. I was still dwelling on what I would say when I walked out the front door and pulled it shut tightly behind me, as I do every morning. That is when I had that sinking feeling. My routine was a little different that morning and I didn't have any recollection of putting my house or car keys into my pocket. I frantically dug my hand in my pocket. Nothing. I went to the side door to get the hidden key. It was right where it was supposed to be. We are not stupid people. But no deadbolt key. Was the deadbolt thrown on that door? Of course. Was it thrown on the back door as well? Of course. Were all the lower windows locked with the screw bolt so that no one could simply break the window, reach in and flip the latch? Of course. We are not stupid people.

I was supposed to pick Antonia up and give her a ride to work. I thought, fine, I'll swallow my pride and call her and ask her to come over and let me in the house. Do I own cell phone? Of course not. I hate talking on phones, and I'm too cheap to pay for something I already have at home. I went across to ask Mr. Lewis if I could borrow his phone. His house was very quiet. I rapped lightly and no one answered. I didn't want to disturb him. I went next door and knocked.

"Hi. I locked myself out of my house. Can I borrow your phone?"
"And who are you and where do you live?"
(Quickly taking my cap off.) "I'm John. I live next door." Like for the past year, and we just had a conversation about raking leaves last weekend.

Mr. Neighbor was kind enough to bring me his phone after that. Fine. What number do I call? My mind went blank. All the numbers flitted away. If I could call Darien, she could call Antonia. Could I remember her cell phone number? Of course not. But wait! I remembered the number to her school. Not the number to the library, which would have done me good, but to the front desk, where they have an answering machine. I started punching in numbers that had some similitude to Darien's or Antonia's, and had some pleasant exchanges with strangers. My neighbor watched me with growing wonder. He showed me how his phone had this feature called redial. Amazing. His wife and child came outside, waiting for me to finish so he could take them to work and school. They too watched me fumble with the phone. I was thankful for the antiperspirant I had applied that morning, although frankly I was starting to believe that I could make a case for violation of the truth in advertising laws.

Finally it hit me. I had a list of phone numbers in my wallet! Just in case. I've had it there for years. We are not stupid people.

Not an unreasonable pile, but it is growing, and more than imperceptibly. She has three more weeks to hold on. It is enough to drive one to drink.