misplaced items

A friend's latest blog entry about being inadvertently locked out of her room last weekend has got me into thinking about my own misadventures involving misplaced and lost keys, wallet, pens, hankies, umbrellas, etc.

case in point: 10 to 15 min after i leave the office i usually end up calling an officemate to check if i had somehow left my coin purse (5x at least) or cellphone (3x) in my table. so far, i'd been lucky in that most of the time, the item is left where i thought it would be (with one hilarious exception, but that of course is another story). so more often than not, i'd be asking — accompanied by a lot of feeble excuses and red-faced laughter — my long-suffering officemate(s) to please keep the item for me so i could retrieve it the next day.

i figure their reproof (and amused jibes) is a small price to pay compared to the hassles of actually losing these things.

here's another sample: i once locked my own bathroom. it took me about 2 hours to finally locate the key. by then i was practically at my wits' end.

however, few situations could ever compare to the chagrin and comical horror of finding myself locked out of my place with no hope (no celphone, no money) of getting in and realizing that i was due for a meeting in 20 minutes. i couldn't get to a payphone because i left my wallet in my room and my neighbors were all away at work. worse, i was getting hungry and needed to use the bathroom!

after 10 minutes of fruitless hand-wringing and cursing my own stupid tendency to lock doors, i finally ventured out — in my houseclothes no less, and sturdy slippers — to look for my landlord who lives about a block away. blithely ignoring surprised looks from passersby, i practically ran the last 20 meters to his place. and then, guess what. his son was there, but my landlord wasn't!! we looked for his keys in vain; the landlord apparently took it with him.

oh cripes, i thought despairingly. this can't be happening to me. not now, please! 

finally, i saw somebody familiar, the guy who lived 2 floors below me. now, me and this person, we barely even talk except to exchange a brief nod when we happen to bump into each other to do our laundry. without a thought, i walked up to him and explained my predicament. he was quite sympathetic (didn't even blink, bless his patient heart), and lent me his celphone. i finally reached my landlord, who agreed to come back home earlier than planned. whew! talk about having a bad day.

(NB:  just the other week, while i was paying my rent, my landlord actually thought i was there to borrow his key again! i guess that means i'm long overdue for another of these painfully cute episodes. weehehe)

i don't know why, but i have this incurable habit of locking doors. my sister says its a result of being used to living on my own in the metro for too long. (i think there's hint in there somewhere, but let's pretend i didn't notice ). she does have a point though… at least it sounds better than the other (and more obvious) explanation. ahem!

if ever an award is given to people for misplaced things, i'd likely end up among its finalists (*shame-faced grin*). natch!