Part 3: Laugh or Cry? The most memorable car trip of my life…

We finally make it to the condo after a couple more stops and several hours later. Both kids are contentedly sleeping in their seats. We explain the situation to the first security officer we see at the gate’s entrance. He tells us to go the other entrance and tell them. We go to the second security officer at the second gate entrance and explain that we are here…hours away from home…without our key. I really think they assume we are lying and are trying to break in. They walkie talkie somebody, say somebody from security will meet us at the building, and tell us to go to the original gate entrance. We go back to the original gate entrance and are sent to our building. We get to our building, and Robert and I go in to meet Barney Fife…I mean the security officer sent to help us. I was thinking…are you serious…is this a joke? I wish I could vividly describe this man to adequately give you an idea of how closely he acted like dear old Barney Fife with a few extra pounds on him. Let’s just say…he took his job as security officer very, very seriously.

He had this notepad and took down our name. I spelled our last name 11 times, letter by letter. He still wrote Robert’s name ending with a “y” (which would be Robery???) and our last name with a “J” despite how many times I said “G”. I wanted to take his little pen and do it for him! I explained the situation. He looked at both of our owner cards, our licenses, and then asked the questions that I just explained to him already. Sir, I explain slowly…we need security to get us into the maintenance office or to the building director’s office. They have keys to all the owner’s condos for emergencies.

He nods and swags his way to take us up to the 19th floor. Concerned, I explain to him that we are owners not renters, he won’t have a key. He says, “Missy (seriously, he called me missy. my husband gently put his hand on my arm knowing I was about to physically attack him), this is my building, I got a key to everything” and pats his ring of keys like an affectionate pet. He proceeds to push the 19th button to the elevator again. I say, “no, sir, it’s the 20th floor. And, I believe the maintenance office would be where we need to get the key or the director of the building's office.” He says, “mam, I know what I’m doing. This is my building.” I’m thinking…but resisted saying…sure, I’m sure you know even though it’s our condo for the last 6 years, and you wrote down a “J” every time I said “G”." We get to 19, and he says…"well, it must be 20". He looked at us like he was telling us our mistake for being on 19. We get off on 20…there are only 2 condos on this floor. It seems like you would know this information…being it’s your building, Barney!

We go to the door, and he pulls out a ring with over a gazillion keys. He says, “This is a hard lock. I thought it was going to be a card swiper. I don’t think I have a key for this. I can’t open it for you. I guess you’re just out of luck.” I, again, explain where the key should be. Long story short, we walked with this man for over an hour to various places, and he once again decided we were out of luck. This security man should not have been given a ring of keys much less any authority. We try to break in with a credit card…no luck. We consider sleeping in the truck. We call a couple locksmiths…a lot of money. We wake up my dad for his inspiration…no luck. He is usually the most resourceful person I know...but you can't expect a lot from someone at 4 in the morning. We walk around the parking lot thinking. We walk around the lobby thinking. We talk to Barney Fife again. We consider a hotel. We consider crying. We consider sleeping in the lobby.

We call the head of security, despite our little Barney Fife standing there with his arms on his hips assuring us it would do no good because he’s already reported the situation to him. Head of security gives us a number to the building director’s after hours person...he’s not sure how much this will help. What can we lose at four in the morning? The on call lady tells us, “Yes, security can let you in. They obviously just don’t know what they are doing. We’ll call them. Then, we’ll call you.” They contact Barney Fife and he begrudgingly leaves his post of chatting with a buddy about his “busy night” helping us who forgot our key and about some people after hours playing in the pool. Fortunately, crime is low in the area because I have no faith in the protection of Barney Fife! Miraculously, he is able to discover the key and let us in. We get in at about four thirty in the morning….both girls are awake. The director makes a spare key the following day and apologizes for Barney. She is our hero. As any good southerner, I’ll respond with “God bless that man” every time I speak of Barney!

Little Bit was all revved up and didn’t sleep until about six. LaLa, who had slept in the car and quickly fell back asleep after we unpacked, got up at seven. Oh, what a night. I seriously wondered if it was all a joke, but it was all so ridiculous…all you could do was laugh. The rest of the trip was great. Little Bit and I took a long nap the next morning, and then everyone else got to take a nap that afternoon. We were blessed with great memories, good weather, and yummy food. I was just glad I lived to tell about the trip down there…because I wasn’t sure if I would at times!

Mama Drama Rule #35: If you are faced with a situation where your only two choices are laughing or crying, go with laughing…at least you’ll burn some calories at the same time!