It all started with static cling.
I should have known when my dress was clinging to my tights before I even left the hotel room- despite a vigorous application of Static Guard- what kind of day this was going to be .
I probably should have just curled back up in the hotel bed and decided to skip the day.
But I didn’t.
I foolishly ignored the signs and ventured out into the world.
And Murphy laughed and said “Game on!”
I got as far as the parking lot before he fired his first shot.
I popped the trunk on my rental car, threw my bags in, and closed the trunk.
Only to hear those 3 little horn honks that say “you just did something really dumb”
As soon as I heard them, I knew exactly what that dumb thing was. I had just shut my car key in the trunk. I tried the trunk release button over the license plate, only to hear the same 3 honks letting me know that wasn’t going to work with the key inside.
No big deal. At least I had been smart enough to unlock the car before I did that. So I just had to go inside and pop the trunk with the release button.
But here’s a fun fact! The new Chevy Malibu does not have a trunk release button on the interior of it’s vehicle. For some unknown reason, the designers of the new Malibu-quite likely in the hopes of being perceived as innovative and cutting edge- decided there was no need for an interior trunk release button.
I know this because after I spent many minutes searching for one ( and fearing that I may not be as smart as I thought), I actually googled “where to find the trunk release in a Chevy Malibu”. Only to have Google tell me there isn’t one.
Well, that’s fine. I’ll just climb in the back and pull down one of the seats, or at the very least, the cup holder arm rest in the center. There is always at least a hole to the trunk there, and I can just reach in and grab my bag and rescue my key.
I know you can see where this is going.
Evidently, the Malibu engineers felt there was absolutely no reason anyone would ever need access to the trunk from inside the vehicle. And Google confirmed, that indeed, the only access to the trunk was through the key fob.
Which can’t be accessed if it is in the trunk.
Google does have some stories of other unfortunate souls, who obviously had also challenged good old Murphy to a duel, and they had been successful in retrieving their keys by contacting OnStar.
So I climbed back into the car and pushed the handy OnStar button.
But of course I do not own the vehicle I am sitting in, so my friendly OnStar tech had no way of knowing that I was actually the owner of the bag I say I am trying to access in the trunk and not some nefarious character trying to purloin someone else’s wallet.
So they have to contact the car rental agency, which takes a very long time to accomplish.
We finally have three people on the phone trying to work this out, and the car rental person is telling me that the only option we have is for them to send a tow truck, since the keys are locked in the car and we can’t get in: I am explaining that key is actually locked in the trunk, and that I am actually in the car at that moment: and then she is saying there is no way to pop the trunk: when all of a sudden I hear the trunk pop.
I think the OnStar tech took pity on me.
I quickly thank the rental car rep, tell her I’m good to go, and jump out and rescue my key.
The day can go on!! Take that Murphy!
I’m only a few minutes late for my meeting, the meeting goes off without a hitch as does my two hour drive back to the airport.
I’m thinking Murphy was so impressed with my ingenuity that he has moved on.
Then I get to the airport.
I go up to the desk to check in and inquire if there is any way to get on the earlier connecting flight out of Chicago. The ticket agent actually laughs and says everything is completely sold out due to fog in Chicago earlier that morning that has wreaked havoc on the flight schedules.
No big deal. I check in for my original flight, check my bag and head to security.
I make it through security and head into the gift shop to get a water and a snack. I’m just checking out, when my phone dings with an alert.
My flight to Chicago has just been cancelled.
Since I already know that all the other flights are already sold out, I jump on the phone with our company travel agents and they scour every airline for any available seats.
They find only one seat that will get me home before Sunday. And it costs roughly as much as a semester of college.
But I have no choice, as I HAVE to be home the next morning to continue my fight with the insurance company from having been hit by a car on my bike nearly two years ago.
(Oh, have I not told you that story yet??)
They book the seat, and I go back out to check in to have them retrieve my bag (because of course this is one of those times I had checked a bag). There are lines a mile long at every customer service counter, the baggage claim office and the check in counter, and as I join this line I am seriously concerned that by the time my bag is radioed for and retrieved, I will miss my other flight.
After nearly 30 min, I get within one person of the front and take a chance. I tell the guy in front of me, that I have already been re-booked on another flight, and I promised not to steal his seat, but that I just needed them to get my bag back so I could make my new flight.
Luckily he was a kind individual and let me go first.
They radio for my bag, and unbelievably my bag appears at baggage claim in a record 10 min.
I am rechecked in, back through security and at my new gate with time to spare.
I never thought I would say United saved the day.
I make it to Houston, change terminals and board my plane to Denver without further incident.
I land in Denver 3 hours later than planned, but it looks like I’ll make it home without further incident.
Until I look at my phone.
I have a little weather alert that notifies me there are currently “light snow showers” in Denver.
Huh. I had been looking at the weather and it was 60 degrees earlier in the day without even the slightest hint of snow mentioned in the forecast.
Like any good Coloradan, however, I know we can go from summer to winter in 3 hours or less without any warning, and I am not too worried about “snow showers”, so I think nothing of it.
I collect my bag (which despite the bright orange “Star Priority” tag on it, and the small fortune I paid for my seat, which should have ensured it was one of the first bags off the plane, is nearly the last- of course!), get to my car and head out on the long drive home.
It may, indeed, have been snow showers for the first few minutes, but those “showers” quickly turned into a full on blizzard which is making it very challenging to see 3 feet in front of you.
Murphy is having himself a good laugh by now I am sure.
The weather and the roads only get worse the further I drive, until you can no longer tell where the lanes on the road are because we are driving through at least 4 inches of snow on the highway.
Let me just take a minute to say, we have not had any winter in Colorado until the past two weeks, so I would assume the snow plow drivers would be happy for some work and working overtime to keep our roads clear. However, the only plow I saw in the entire drive from Denver, was one that was plowing the frontage road that runs beside the highway ( and where there were no cars driving) , but not the highway itself. I’m sure there is a logical explanation for this in some alternate universe.
Thankfully, I make it home safely, despite passing several accidents, cars off the road, and one that is up on it’s side and blocking the lanes of traffic.
I crawl into bed just before midnight, and hope that I have survived my Murphy’s Law day and he will move on to more worthy opponents tomorrow.