Lost keys

I never heard them jingle and clink as they spilled from my bag and hit the sidewalk. I was too absorbed in my iPod as I ran home from the gym. Somewhere between Avenue A and Fifth Avenue along 12th Street, my keys and I parted ways amongst the afternoon crowds.

I’ve never lost a set of keys before. I rarely lose anything…especially not one of the small everyday objects that play such important roles in our lives (i.e. keys, wallet, iPod, cell phone, infant). My first emotion upon realizing my keys weren’t in my bag was utter and complete dread. A deep and resonating boom echoed somewhere in the distance as my heart sank. Panic came next as I poured out everything in my bag and searched for the missing keys. I knew they weren’t there…I knew they weren’t back at the gym…I knew they were somewhere in the streets of New York City. Crap.

As if on cue the rain began to pour. Perfect…rain and locked out. I felt like R2-D2 from The Empire Strikes Back when he’s locked out of Yoda’s hut on Dagobah (perhaps a bit too obscure of a reference…). I had to find my keys…so I began the 1.5 mile walk back along the way I had come…my eyes scanning every inch of sidewalk with desperation and urgency. Could I find them?

I walked all the way back to the gym…and all the way home again. Nada. Nothing. 鍵
ない！ The keys were gone.

But where? I would have seen them if they were still in the middle of the sidewalk. So did someone pick them up? A human? An animal? A sewer gnome who regularly collects dropped items and adds them to his store of people treasures in his underground lair? I had no idea…all I knew was I had contributed to the lost items of NYC.

I’ll miss you keys. You have my drug store and grocery store MVP cards that get me deals on toothpaste and tomato sauce. Sigh. Life goes on.