Boob Key.

Boob Key.

My friend Lauren and I had a few hours to waste time on a beautiful day.
I had a late start.. I couldn’t get myself out of bed.
Sleeping is really great, you guys.

So we had limited time to go hiking at Harrington Beach.
She had never been, so I took her to the quarry..
(i say this as if i’ve been here more than once.)

The water was the color of light jade.
I can’t remember it being that way the last time I was there..

Lauren had to touch the water..
She said it was crisp, and inviting.
There are signs that say absolutely no swimming or boating.. But you can fish.
They must stock the fish themselves.

She almost got stuck.
I would have appreciated it if she did.
Because that’s who I am as a person.
Kind of a jerk, really.

We revisited the rock-crusher place.
The rock-loader.
The rock-bridge-underwater-beams.
GDit.. For some reason I can’t retain information that I find even the slightest bit boring.

The leaves are just starting to turn on the trees.
We both agreed that when they really go, the contrast of the color of the water, and the orange and browns of the leaves are really going to be something.
I might return just to take some pictures.
I’m starting to love that place a little bit.

We continued on our journey..
Stopping to admire an oldschool water pump..
(but never drink out of it.. nay.. that’s lead poisoning for sure.)

We met this tree that looked out of place in the forest.

I found some more moss.
I’d like to rub my face on some moss sometime.
Without the fear of a Wolf spider in my mouth.
No thanks to any spider that can be described as “agile,” m’kay?

We circled the quarry, and were about to head back to take a stroll on the beach, when I thought to myself..
“Goodness, my underboob is sweaty.”
And then I thought to myself..
“Hey, that’s where I put my car key.”
And that’s when I plunged my hand into my cleavage and rooted around in it like I was wearing a blindfold, and it was a bag full of peeled grapes at a kids Halloween party.
I knew then that I had lost it.
I said to Lauren..
“I put the key in my bra, and the key is no more.”

This is the kind of thing I’m prone to doing.
Losing things that eff up a whole situation.
She just looked at me and said..
“Well, let’s loop back around and retrace our steps.”
So we did.

We did not find the key.
At this point, it was 5 minutes to One in the afternoon.
She had to pick up her daughter at school (her second day of second grade at a new school) at 2:15.
We were 45 minutes away.
For Lauren.. Panic had begun to set in.

We returned to the car, and there were zero people in the parking lot.
We began to move faster.
Lauren spotted an older couple near the Visitor’s Center.
We jogged a bit to catch up to them.
They informed us that they had a “track phone” in their car..
Which was “down the beach, and up the hill.”
(what the fuck is a track phone?)

On our way down the beach, a man that could only be named Bill, argued with his wife over who had the keys.
Telling us that she always tells him she gave him the keys, when she absolutely did not give him the keys.
I sneaked a picture of the two of them.
Quite possibly the best retired couple I have ever met.
Here she is, giving her husband the keys.

The red shorts and the yellow flip-up sunglasses?
Holy shit, this guy is the tops.

We called Juan, who said he would pick up Lauren’s daughter from school.

During this time, Bill regaled us with a story of his police officer days..
He talked about how police don’t like to be called to break into cars, or houses of an owner who’s locked themselves out.
On one such occasion, he was called to an expensive home, one with a thick sturdy door, and no way to break in.
He kicked the door open in an unmatched feat of strength.
Clearly, one of his proudest moments.

We had to find another woman mowing the lawn outside of her home to use her phone to call a locksmith.
(the key to my ignition was in the car)
She told us we were the third to ask her for such a thing, and she knew just the place.
She was unbelievably nice, and funny, and Lauren and I agreed that we would hang out with her given the chance.
I tried to take a picture of the inside of her house, but my camera was on the wrong setting, and my photo turned out black.
She returned too soon for me to change it.
Again.. This is the kind of person I am. The jerky kind.
I’m sure if she knew I’d tried to take a picture of the inside of her house to blog about it, she never would hang out with me in real life.

On our way back, we saw Bill and Lara in their natural habitat.
One o’clock in the afternoon, on the beach, with beers in hand.
They’re the fuckin’ best. No contest. I love these guys.
I didn’t miss the fact that they’re facing each other. (adorbs)

The locksmith came in about 10 minutes.
He was the kind of man you’d guess would be a locksmith in Belgium, Wisconsin.
(seriously, wasn’t i just talking about belgium and slumdog moments?)

Pay no attention to the tow lot marker on my windshield.
Sometimes I don’t park so good.

All in all, not bad for a Wednesday morning.
I’m out 60 bucks, but a little girl is safe at home with her mom, and I had a pretty good story to tell.