In a Display of Epic Stupidity and Old Age Jamie Garrett Forgets Key to His Truck Three Days in a Row

I can deny it all I want, but old age is creeping up on me.  I sometimes forget to do a task within 5 seconds of remembering to do said task.  Forgetting my truck key three days in a row, however, takes the cake.  And cake is easy to eat once the teeth have gone and I'm left with only my gums.

It all started Friday night with me actually thinking ahead to save time and gas.  As I left for the Temple football game Friday night where I do the radio play-by-play, I decided to take the station vehicle.  I did this because I knew I had a remote broadcast Saturday and taking it Friday would save me time Saturday.

It was this clever thinking that led to my downfall.  After my remote was finished Saturday I came back to the station to to drop off the station vehicle and get my truck.  It was only after arriving at the station that I realized I'd left my key at home.  I'd left my windows in my truck down just enough to leave me with hope.

It's only once every few weeks when I find myself sitting at my desk in my office.  99.99% of the time I'm in one studio or another, on the air or preparing to go on the air.  Because my studio was in use last week I took up refuge in my office, where I just so happened to notice an unfamiliar painting of cats on top of the book shelf.  Underneath the picture was a wire coat hanger that had been unraveled.  I was perplexed, but I went on with my day.

I've since found out that the picture was part of a co-worker's Halloween costume.  The coat hanger is still a mystery, but it did help me out on several different occasions.  Once I realized I was keyless I didn't lose hope.  I used good old-fashioned American ingenuity and used the coat hanger to pick the lock.  I thought briefly about throwing the coat hanger away after I was done, but I stopped myself at the last second and put it back inside.  "I may need this someday", I thought to myself.  Little did I know that someday was LATER THAT SAME DAY.

It was early Saturday evening when my wife asked me to pay a bill online.  Not a problem, except I'd left my laptop in the studio at work.  I knew the bill had to be paid, and I knew I wasn't getting out of a 30-minute roundtrip back to work.  It was halfway to work when I thought, "Oh, I can pick up my truck while I'm here".  The only problem, of course, was I'd left the key at home.

Once I got to work I also realized my laptop wasn't in the studio.  Rather, it was in the backseat of my truck.  Once again I went to work with the coat hanger.  There was never a doubt this time that I'd be using it again real soon.  "Soon" turned out to be less than 24 hours away.

Sunday is a workday for me.  It's just as simple as that.  I've got, on average, an hour or two of work every Sunday, longer in the summer & the Party Pontoon.  With my mind so keenly focused on the work at hand, and the grocery list that awaited once I was finished, I once again left the house without a truck key.

My truck holds anywhere from 1 to 5 pairs of sunglasses at any given time, and Sunday I needed my shades.  Another trip to my office for the coat hanger made it three times in two days I'd broken into my own truck, after having never done it before.

The kicker to the story, and what makes it truly a Jamie story, is that Monday I was back at work without my key.  Don't ask me why.  I just hadn't had a cup of coffee before leaving the house and I wasn't even thinking.  I just grabbed a pair of keys (station vehicle keys) and ran out the door.  I didn't think this would be an issue until I realized I wasn't feeling well.

I'd been sick over the weekend, and that feeling was returning.  I knew I had to get out of there, and quick.  With the station vehicle at another remote broadcast, I was stuck.  I had no way home, and I needed to get home in a hurry.  In stepped Kelsey, putting her own health at risk being in the same confined space as me to drive me to my house so I could FINALLY get me key and take my truck home.

Three break-ins and several face-palm moments later, Rhianna (my truck's name) was safe and sound back at home.  It concerns me a little that I could break into my truck three different times without one concerned citizen reporting it.  That would certainly explain why several of our previous vehicles had been robbed without a single report of anyone seeing it.  Thankfully, the new video cameras are installed and if any rif raf (other than THIS rif raf) decides to get cute we'll have them... in high-def.