George called me yesterday from an undisclosed location in Rockville to tell me he'd locked himself out of his car. We have a set of each other's keys for just such an event, so I ran home and got his. While I made my way up there, George forwarded the directions from his Blackberry to my phone.
When I got there, I found George and Timothy locked out of his car and standing next to a vacuum cleaner. The story goes that George bought a vacuum off some Craigslist sketchmo and through some series of actions locked his keys in the car. I let him in and he gave me back his keys.
I'm glad it was a vacuum, and not some kind of "casual encounter" gone wrong.
While we stood in the parking lot of some random Twinbrook apartment complex, I scraped some of the barcodes and other graffiti off his windshield while we talked. I explained to Timothy that the parking lot of an apartment complex that you'll never see again is synonymous with a dumpster. To prove it, I tossed an empty Starbucks cup out the window just before we both pulled out of there.