Star-Crossed Journey to the Promised Land

There are some things I refuse to be totally honest about. With that disclaimer, you can know that some of what you're about to read is complete rubbish. But I will start with a true premise and embellish it in whatever way seems appropriate.
The locking system on Honda cars is diabolical. In order to secure the premises, you must lift the handle to the diver's door as you are shutting it or it doesn't actually lock. This is a detail I knew and understood on Saturday morning when I drove myself to the airport in a friend's Honda. The plan? I drive myself. Put the car in long term parking. She'll pick it up when she gets back to town on Tuesday. It's a great plan because, although I was staying in San Antonio, I was flying out of Austin.

But, due to a series of star-crossed events, my wallet (with my photographic identification) was no where to be found on Saturday morning. My hope was to arrive to the airport with plenty of time to spare. My hopes, however, were fated to be dashed.

I unpacked and repacked my suitcase 3 times. Looked under couches, chairs, beds, tables, laundry baskets and even the fridge. Where is it?! No clue.

So, I got to the airport a little later than anticipated. As I’m driving up to the parking lot, the concern that’s rolling through my brain is what if I can’t get through the security gate with my Pacific Science Center ID? What will I do if the car is locked and I can’t get back in? So let me pause here and tell you the correct answer: take the car key with you. Obviously my friend has a spare key, because the plan was always that I should just leave the key under the mat, lock up the car (see directions above) and she’ll get it later. While I fully acknowledge the brilliance of that plan now, it did not cross my mind at the time. My plan was to leave one of the back doors unlocked. What’s the chance that anyone would notice and steal the car? In my defense it was early, no one I knew in any time zone was awake to tell me what a dumb plan I had conjured out of the depths of my brain. So I went with it.

I remembered to lift the handle as I shutting the driver’s door. I walked around to the back seat passenger side door I had planned to leave unlocked. Reached for the handle. Nothing. Here’s the theatrical rendition.

Car: I am locked.

Me: Locked?!

Car: Yes.

Me: No!!!!

One detail I didn’t know about the Honda car door locking system, is that lifting the handle locks all the doors. Even the one you just reached over and lifted the button to leave unlocked. Even the one specifically selected because that’s the side of the backseat where your suitcase is sitting. So there I was, standing in the parking lot of the Austin, Texas airport, with no suitcase, no wallet and no time.

I realized that my only choice now was to walk away and hope the security guard thinks my smile is charming enough to let me through with my expired voter’s card (no picture) and my WWU student ID (fuzzy picture from 5 years ago).

Luckily charm is something I have in abundance, so a few agonizing minutes later I was seated in seat 16B on my way back to the Promised Land.

What’s the best part of the story—when I got to Seattle I didn’t have to stand at the baggage claim and wait forever for my suitcase to come rolling around the carousel.