Serendipity

"Hey... a bird pooped all over your window."

"Ewww... Gross."

"No! That's good luck!"

She wasn't believing me on this one. Oh well.

We continued on with our shopping errands. It had been a long Saturday of shopping already. One quick stop at the grocery store and we'd be finished.

We grabbed what we needed quickly then came back out. And then the car wouldn't start.

Actually, the key wouldn't even turn.

What the hell?

Dammit! My waffles are melting.

After 15 minutes of monkeying with it, we called a cab (and it took 4 calls before we found a taxi service that would come to our area). The taxi driver was something right out of a Coen Brothers movie. Thankfully, we didn't have to ask him to turn down The Eagles.

Now, Jen's car is a ten year-old Camry. It's been very dependable for us. But if you look closely, it's starting to show a few signs of aging. The key we were using looked pretty worn. Our thinking was that we'd get a ride back home, put the frozen foods away, and drive back out in my car with a newer key.

It's late by this point. The store is about to close. We rush back out.

"What do we do if this doesn't work?"

"Well, we'll come back for it in the morning. And we'll either call a locksmith or get it towed to the dealership."

Neither idea sounds like a great way to spend a Sunday. But I'm staying positive. It's nobody's fault. Nothing that could have been prevented.

We drive back out to the store and try it with the new key. And it still wouldn't turn. Grrrrr. Now what do we do?

Jen went and grabbed the guy in the parking lot gathering up carts. They had already locked the front door.

"Hey, we've got a disabled vehicle here. Is it OK if we leave it here overnight?"

"What's the problem?"

"The key won't turn."

"Mind if I give it a try?"

"Sure, knock yourself out."

Then he jumped in the car. And gave the steering wheel a quarter turn to the right. Then turned the key and started the car.

"Hey... How'd you do that?"

"I'm a mechanic. And I drive a Toyota myself."

Wow. This guy rules. Was there anyone in the entire universe who would have been more useful to us at that point?

So, to answer the "call a locksmith or call the dealership?" question, you flag down the guy in the parking lot putting carts away.

And I told you the bird poop thing was good luck.