The one where my car key decided to become lego pieces ….

You know how you bring your car to a standstill, and then you remove your car key from the car ignition, then the car says “no, don’t go I love you too much” and the key goes “aw shucks man, I have had the same feeling for the longest time…”

And then you pull the key out, and the key snaps off and the main component that makes it a key remains in the ignition.

Then there is that moment when you look at your now fancy yet non functioning key thingy and you say things like “fuck — fuck, what the fuck am I going to do now?”

I am not sure if this is unique to me but when I am confronted with a situation that feels like it defies logic I tend to keep looking at the thing, and then re checking the thing, then looking around because maybe this is how Armageddon starts.   I repeat this several times over just in case I missed a key (see what I did there) point.

Seems I was on the money (and about to have all the money taken away) it appears my key had snapped.  Fortunately I could get the snapped piece out of the ignition which was a brief moment of joy and then I wondered how the hell I was going to drive my car.

Eventually after several checks and rechecks that my key indeed was snapped.  It still was.  Totally sure on that at this point.  But did need to do the 29th check just in case things were not as bad as they seemed.

{Just to clarify how bad this idea of disbelief is — I once parked my car outside my office, got out to my car and it was gone.  My brain could not accept it was gone.  I went to look up and down the road, in case it had moved it’s self whilst I was at my desk.  Then when  my brain could no longer accept that absence of my car on the road side I went upstairs and checked behind my desk, just in case that is where I had left it this morning and just forgot.   My brain’s ability to not accept what is visually obvious can be quite alarming.)

Anyway I managed to get the key part into the ignition and with deft finger nails manage to turn it and the car started.  I drove straight to VW.  Because my car is a VW, going to Ford would just confuse everyone at this point.

I walk into the “parts” section – I figured as my one key was two parts, this might be the right area for me.

As I walked in I said “Hey you want to see something funny?” and then showed the trick of my car key turning itself into two parts.

The guy liked my sense of humour.

He however wiped the smile right off my face with immediate effect.  He said “that’s going to be really expensive….” but in that was that car dealerships mean that they are going to make you cry.  And you can forget buying Gouda cheese for the rest of the month.

I looked at him — so how much is this going to cost me? ……. always in that tone when you do not want to know the answer to the question …… I tend to whisper if I know that I am about to be fleeced of all my wine money.

Bloke explained that the key needs a new key – I can see he was quick to assess the situation.  He then said the other thing is that the key needs to be coded.  That black part connected to the key that goes “plunk plunk” when it is near my car …. I am nodding because I am following the technicalities of this.

I am feeling we are one soul bonding over our common understanding of keys.

I am nodding, as you do, and then I said “so how much is that going to cost” — just over R3 000.00.  (R3 300.00 to be specific).

I will admit that I did lose a bit of my decorum and went — in that really high pitched voice that only dogs 5 – 9 km away can hear “Three fucking thousand for one fucking key — does this come with nachos and strippers??”

I think he thought I was a funny person.

I do think this would be a better experience with nachos and strippers.  That is how affronted I felt.

No, I was a person who was being fucked at VW and then pay them.   Momma, didn’t raise no idiot.  Sure she raised a fringe lunatic, with depression, social anxiety but not an idiot.

I said the number a few more times — it still did not slide off my tongue without me gagging.

I mentioned I needed a spare key — he didn’t even skip a beat, twice as much.  I am glad this guy is in parts and not sales —-

Anyway whilst I was standing there mumbling to myself with spittle forming on my chin, someone suggested I try a locksmith down the way.

I said my apologise to everyone who had to watch my performance, and my thank you’s to those who hung around for the grand finale  – and went to the locksmith down the way.

I did the same trick when I arrived and showed them how my key disintegrates.    They also thought it was sort of amusing.  Must have been a slow day in lock smith land.

Dude charged my under R2 500.00 – he sorted out my one key and that is all clean and together.  Then he made a spare key as well.  I did not have one.  Or I had one, and somewhere in the divorce, the move, losing my mind I misplaced the key.

I just think key shit happens at once, best to just get a spare.

I have no moral in this story.  But I am trying this blogging thing because I have missed blogging and I need to.

Here is my shout out to Bell City Locksmith, 188 Durban Road, Bellville, 021 948 1388 who were friendly, gave me a product that worked without totally ripping the ring.

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