Locked Out Again

Late Sunday night, I was sitting on a sidewalk by myself in a bad part of town. I passed the time by eating oranges. It wasn't long before people driving by would stop and ask if I needed help. Someone came out of their house and crossed the street to see if I was okay. I was okay. I had just locked myself out of my car again. I was using my lunch break to wait for Auto Club.

The last time I locked myself out of my car, I started a new protocol for getting out of the car. I had to check my purse twice to make sure the keys were zippered inside and whisper to myself, "keys in purse." That worked just fine. My keys were in my purse, but I left my purse in the car. I now have a new protocol. I can only lock my car with the remote. That should work, but it is annoying having to squeeze my keys in my purse and zipper it up after I'm out of the car.

It is nice to know how many nice people are out there, though. I probably looked like a homeless person sitting on the sidewalk, yet total strangers offered their help. Later, I switched to standing hoping that I would look less in need of help. But I stood as far back from the street as possible and kept my arms crossed and head down. I was worried that I might be mistaken for a hooker, again.