You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Embarrassing Moments’ category.




That is the view through the window in the kitchen door of the spare keys. That is not how you want to see them. You want to see them safely attached to the fence so that when you find yourself locked out, you can get back into the house.

I woke up this morning and, as usual, took the dog out to do his business. For some reason, I decided to pull on some sweats instead of going out in my pajamas. Smart. As I closed the door behind me, dog and dog treats in hand, I thought, “Did I unlock the door before closing it?”

Of course not.

Then the stream of consciousness:  I can’t believe it’s raining, Rob’s on a trip, I’m supposed to pick him up this evening, at least I have dog food for the dog, I have no phone, does Rob’s dad have a key?

Since I recently went around the house locking windows, I was sure that I was stuck, but I made the rounds anyway. As luck would have it, Holly’s bedroom window was unlocked. It’s one of the old windows in the house with multiple layers of window and screen, and I was sure that I would end up breaking at least the screen, but after several minutes of fiddling, I got it open and climbed on through. Wouldn’t you know, as I exited the house, after making sure that the door was UNLOCKED, the cleaning ladies arrived. Thursday! I forgot it was Thursday and that they would be coming and have a key! Thank goodness I had gotten dressed.

When I was in high school, I worked at a restaurant called Two Guys From Italy. Nowadays, waitresses wear white shirts and black slacks, but back then we wore clothing that could more readily be described as costumes than uniforms. Ours was a short,  bright-red, high-waisted skirt with a white peasant style blouse. It was made for the pleasure of lecherous, old men.

I went through a period of locking my keys in the car I drove (a Pinto!). I had gotten quite good at using coat hangers to unlock the door. One night, I got off work and made my way to the parking lot across the street. Sure enough, there were my keys, in the ignition and the driver’s door was locked. So I made my way back to the restaurant, found a hanger in the kitchen, unwound it and put just the right kinks in it to hook the car’s door lock and pull it up to unlock it.

So engrossed in my task was I, that I didn’t even notice the security guard who came to offer his help. I almost had the car unlocked when I finally saw him. In my car, reaching over to unlock my door.

Blonde moment.

Checking to see if ALL the doors are locked before employing  the hanger saves a lot of time, not to mention embarrassment.