Several days ago as I left a meeting at our church, I desperately gave myself a personal TSA pat down. I was looking for my keys. They were not in my pockets. A quick search in the meeting room revealed nothing.
Suddenly I realized, I must have left them in the truck. Frantically, I headed for the parking lot. My wife has scolded me many times for leaving the keys in the vehicle. My theory is the truck is the best place not to lose them, since I ALWAYS have the remote; but, the remote was in the truck too! Her theory is that the truck might be stolen. As I burst through the doors of the church, I came to a terrifying conclusion. Her theory was right. The parking lot was empty.
I immediately call the police. I gave them my location, confessed that I had left my keys in the truck, and that it had been stolen. Then I made the most difficult call of all, "Honey, I stammered, (I always call her honey in times like this) I left my keys in the truck, and it has been stolen."
There was a period of silence. I thought the call had been dropped, but then I heard Carol's voice. "Ed, (she barked) I dropped you off!" Now it was my time to be silent. Embarrassed, I said, "Well, come and get me". Carol retorted, "I will, as soon as I convince this policeman I have not stolen your truck!"