Previously, my keys were locked in my vehicle and I had to take a cab home.
Leaving my vehicle outside the bar, I was up at the crack of dawn (8:30 ish), and headed out along the beach, past the deserted market (except for the fishermen repairing nets), checked out the fish market, cut down the path at the waterworks, came out at Ana Bananas and spied my vehicle down the street. A lovely twenty minute morning walk.
My spare key worked but my keys were hanging in the ignition in the ON position! Battery dead! How do you say “Booster Cables” in Spanish?
While I was standing in the hot, broiling sun wondering what to do, Barry (former RCMP) from Ana Bananas came around the corner in his vehicle. He stopped and after chatting he asked how things were going.
That was my cue! “Being a Canadian, you wouldn’t happen to have booster cables would you?” He sure did!
He had groceries to drop at the restaurant but he would be right back. And he was.
The cables were not in the car.
They must be at home, he’ll go get them; back in a few minutes. While Barry was gone, Leon the local legend walked by on his way for breakfast, stopped, chatted and assured me I was in good hands as the Mounties were coming. Within minutes another friend walked by with his dog, was brought up to date on my situation and as he left mentioned not to worry, “the Mounties were on the way!”
At this point I was a little stressed, worrying that I was a newcomer in a Mexican town, with limited knowledge of Spanish, and now I could add the whole town knowing about me locking the keys in the van.
That’s right; the vehicle I was driving was a mom’s minivan. My previous car was a six speed Miata convertible. Oh my!
Barry returned but the cables weren’t at home. Kids must have borrowed them he said. (WTF, I thought only my kids did that.) Barry returned to the restaurant to see if anyone had cables.
Great, let’s tell more people what Bruce did!
He was back shortly with a brand new pair of booster cables. (Thanks Al) I’d like to say it was easy to boost the van but there were challenges. First it didn’t start; we rechecked all our connections and tried again. It worked! We disconnected the cables, and the van stalled. We reconnected, started the van, disconnected, and the van stalled. This time we decided I would stay in the van with my foot on the gas. Barry did all the disconnecting, closed the hoods and drove off into the sun as I sat there revving the engine.
Returning home, Velma (who was finally up) asked how I could lock the keys in the van. It was then that I remembered the SCREAMS for HELP; and dashing to help my damsel in distress, not taking time to remove the keys from the ignition.
But why I locked the doors? Just a big city habit I’m trying to break.
But I will always rush to save my damsel in distress.
And there really are no bad days in Mexico.