Ok, so, I'm opening my very own independent bookstore. It's a cute little thing, in a quaint little old building, right on the water with tons of character -- but that's for a different blog.
I rent the building, which means I have a landlord (this will be an important fact later in the story).
So one day, running back and forth between my house and the bookstore, I placed the single key to the bookstore (another important clue) in my apparently very shallow front jean pocket (a third clue). I, er, um, went to the bathroom and after I flushed I was pulling up my jeans when I heard an unmistakable BLLLLOOOOOP sound. I knew IMMEDIATELY what it was. That's right boys and girls, my only bookstore key flushed right down the toilet. I never saw it, just heard it. After I recovered from the shock and then spent the next 10 minutes laughing hysterically at myself, I had an awful realization -- that was the only key that I had which meant that I had to call and explain the situation to my landlord and get a new key.
Thank goodness I have cool landlords with the same goofy sense of humor as me. The picture is how the new key came back to my from the landlord. In case you can't decipher, it's on a "floaty" -- a device that boaters generally use for their boating keys in case they get dropped in the water they will float. Dang, if only I had thought of that...
(come on...it was WAY TOO FUNNY not to share! agreed?)
