I realized this as soon as I got home from My Bad Day Of Blueballs Friday. I was emptying the pockets out of my porno pants when I reached into my right hip pocket and didn't take out either of the two loose keys I put in there this morning. I brought those two keys with me on the chance that I had time to go to Home Depot to make a copy of them. I didn't ... and now I lost them. And yes, there is some irony in having keys you intended to copy and now losing them.
In order to display my humiliation, I will describe the two keys. One of them was for another cashbox that I had bought when I was a the flu biller place. It was only a buck, and I bought just in case. That "just in case" happened when I lost the first set of keys two weeks ago, but I thought it wasn't that big of a deal because I had this second cashbox. Plus, I learned my lesson; this new cashbox had only one key, and therefore I would, as soon as I had the time, make a copy of that key to put for safekeeping.
The other was the key to the locked cabinet in my desk, where I put both my pornography and cash for the alumni group. I was in a bind after I lost my copy, but then I remembered that a spare key was screwed into the desk. Also, my parents bought two, one for me and one for my brother. My desk lost its key, but the "spare" desk still had the "spare" key, and while my folks were away doing some real estate stuff, I got a screwdriver and took it out -- with the intention of getting a copy so I wouldn't worry about walking around with only one key.
I understand there is some irony to this, seeing as I lost another set of keys just two weeks ago. And that I was walking around with two loose keys with the possibility that I could carelessly lose them is also ironic. Let me just say that I totally fucking hate myself for doing this to myself, and it's taking me all my willpower, plus the fact that I paid $200 to go to the Ryder Cup as soon as I'm done with this blog post and that I'm starting my assignment for open enrollment season tomorrow, to not run my head into a wall for being so goddamn stupid.
It's obvious ... no, I think it's obvious ... wait, I hope to Buddha that the keys are in either of the two stripper parties. It has to be there. It could be at my IRA advisor's office, or the bathroom at Mall Of America where I was changing into the underwear I bought at the Gap, or at the doctor's, or at the U. women's hockey game, or at Glam Doll. But I only took out the contents in my pants at those two parties, and there was a lot of shaking and grinding, so odds are (I hope I hope) they are somewhere there.
Getting cooperation from the two hosts/strippers of those parties to look for them is what I'm worried about. The night host said yesterday she didn't see it, but said she would look again at the upstairs bedroom I got a bed dance in and get back to me. Haven't heard from her since. The day host I'm not connected with because she refuses to give me her contact information. We're not connected on Facebook either; even though we have talked to each other on Facebook, we're not connected because she does not want customers as her friends on it. If she doesn't know I think I left my keys there, she obviously isn't going to look. Time is of the essence; with each passing day, I feel like the key could fall onto the floor or vacuumed up or something.
And, since these are, basically (when it comes to the cashbox) copies of keys I've already lost -- my "bailout" keys -- without them I'm totally fucked. Yesterday I had a locksmith jimmy open the cashbox (at a cost of ten bucks, which is a ripoff, and I might talk about that later). Meanwhile I have no fucking clue what I'm going to do with the locked cabinet key now that I have no copy. I at least snapped a picture of the copy (only because I wanted to note the orientation of the key once I put it back ... after I make a copy), but I have no goddamn clue if someone can just make a key off of a photo. If not, I'm fucked.
So yeah, it'd be really fucking nice if these girls can get back to me. Actually, it'd be really fucking nice if they have my keys. I need them to spare me from the stupid goddamn hole I put myself in.
I totally hate my life right now. My life and myself. I really, really do.
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