Thursday, 3 July 2008

Late home

It's 3am and I'm in the cab back from Miss Pink's house, slightly drunk, very full on chinese and listening to Magic FM (why do cabs always have Magic FM love songs on?). We've dropped Weps off and on the way to mine, I put my hands into my bag to get my purse and keys out. Then I get that sinking feeling and continue to search every fold and pocket of my bag. Nooo, pleaseeee nooooo.

How could I not have remembered?

I pay the taxi driver and stand on my driveway. I know! I'll call my sister! She doesn't answer. I try again. No response. Balls.

I stand on the porch shaking the welly boots for a jangling sound, checking under the mat as if we didn't stop leaving keys there years ago.

It's no good, at 3:15am on a Saturday morning, I'm ringing the doorbell of my house and the dogs are now barking, adding a bit more of a wake up call to the proceedings.

The door opens. "Sorry, dad. Forgot my keys"

"Mhhrr. It's ok. Night."


Whooopsy. I least they know I got back home safe. Or something...


nuttycow said...

Wooops.I've done that before. Although I came home with the milkman (not *literally* home with the milkman but at the same time. We weren't doing anything. Honest)

And yes, that caused a few raised eyebrows.

Boy said...

I've never had this problem fortunately. Before I leave the house I have a standard check: Phone in the right pocket, wallet in the left, keys back left. Without fail, since I was 13.

One of the benefits of being male and not having a bag :)

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

nuttycow - I read this comment in an internet cafe in france and literally laughed out loud.

boy - Or, like my boyfriend does, puts everything in his pocket before giving it to me to carry in my handbag. "Have you got room for this? And this? And this?"


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