I’ll have an iced coffee and a coathanger, please

8:50 am — I park in my usual parking lot on Prospect across from the Wolstein Center.  There are more people than usual there, so I figure there is probably something going on at CSU.

8:51 am — I get out of the car, close the door, and immediately realize that my keys are not in my pocket.  Fully knowing that all the doors are locked, I try them anyway.  The passenger-side window is slightly open, so I try to slide it down.  It opens just a crack — enough to get a coathanger in if I pull on it a little.

8:53 am — After pacing a little, I ask a lady if she, by any chance, has a coathanger in her car.  She looks through the mass of rubble in the back and says that no, she doesn’t.  Sorry.  I thank her and look for someone else.

8:57 am — I call Mr. Andorka and explain my situation.  He laughs a little and says he understands.

8:58 am — I ask another woman for a hanger.  She doesn’t have one, either.

9:00 am — Three college-age guys pull in in a station wagon.  I doubt that they even use hangers, but I ask anyway.  They don’t have one, but they suggest I call the police.

9:01 am — I call Mr. Andorka for the non-emergency police number, because I don’t want to be recorded calling 911 because I’m locked out of my car.

9:03 am — I call the police and the operator informs me that the police don’t provide lock-out services unless the car is running or there is a child inside.  I am disappointed.

9:05 am — I finally get two bent-up wire coathangers from a guy with tons of junk in the back of his van.  I thank him profusely and he laughs.  I begin fishing around through the crack in the window to pull the lock lever.

9:32 am — After half an hour of suspicious-looking hanger-wrangling and a few offers of help (including one woman who actually brought me another hanger), I have the lever half-pulled, but the coathanger just isn’t cutting it.  I switch to the other one, which is thicker and sturdier.

9:36 am — An Italian man drives past me.  He backs up, looks at me for a second, then parks his car.  A minute later, he walks over and offers to help.  I say okay and he has the car open in about 30 seconds.  I say thanks several times and he walks over to the pay box to pay for his parking.  I open the car, grab my keys and go over to pay for myself.

I thanked him again for helping me out.  He just replied, “Well, like I tell my girlfriend:  You can’t keep a good Italian out!’

So thank you, you marvellous strangers, for being wondrously terrific.

Advertisement