Zippity Do Da
Zippy, my beloved car, is having a little fun at my expense. This is apparently in exchange for getting me home on autopilot last night after I had sacrificed a few thousand brain cells to Bacchus (and I truly thank his lover, the Goddess of Tipsy Driving, for looking out for me). I hate to carry a handbag, hence my creation of The Wrist Wallet™ which enables me to carry only my driver’s license, debit card, and valet key. Thus, I leave my keyring in the car along with my cellphone. Usually when I gracefully stumble into Zippy I immediately put the valet key back into my WristWallet™ so I won’t lose it, and I use my regular car key to start the car. For some reason known only to the gallon of wine sloshing around in my brain, I drove home using the valet key. After an alcohol-induced-munchies drive through Whataburger, I arrived home pretty much in one piece and squeezed into my ever-shrinking parking space back at Kastle Kurves (the size of my parking space is inversely proportionate to the number of drinks I have had). I parked nice and neatly within the white lines of my space (or perhaps it was within the county lines?) leaving myself a healthy six inches of space in which to exit the vehicle without the use of the Jaws of Life. I removed the Evil Valet Key from the ignition and all seemed calm in my world for about one-fifth of a nanosecond when suddenly … YOWZA!! The Evil Valet Key sprang from my hand at approximately 214.547 miles per hour, executed a perfect triple-dog-three-quarter-double-half-gainer culminating in a stunning two-thirds-half-nelson-barrel-roll-back-flip. And vanished from sight. Vanished. Completely. From. Sight. After a brief three-hour, futile, expletive-driven search of Zippy’s interior, I concluded that the Evil Valet Key had, in fact, quite obviously been sucked into an alternate universe. This morning, freshly convinced that Zippy would be feeling quite penitent after a good night’s rest, I went back to give her a second chance to come clean and give me back my key. I even took along a flashlight to examine her more private crevices (she’s expecting flowers after that highly intimate search). I’ll leave out the part here about accidentally mooning one of my neighbours because I was wearing a housedress and no undies. Although, truth be told, I was rather surprised when she sat in the space next to mine warming her car up for a good five minutes. Maybe she was blinded by my full moon? Needless to say, of course I can replace the missing Stupid Evil POS Valet Key for approximately $1.50. But, it’s The Principal Of The Thing. I’m offering a reward of muchas cervezas for anybody who can find that damn key.