My girlfriend and I were planning to spend the day walking up Cheddar Gorge and up over the hills and far away, but when I went to the car to get our walking boots out I realised I didn't have my car keys. I checked all my pockets and the places I was likely to have left them, but they were nowhere to be seen. We'd last had them when we came back from Exeter and the car was locked which meant they could really only be somewhere in the house (or possibly might have fallen out of my pocket when we were out at the pub last night for dinner) and yet as hard as I looked I couldn't find them.
I thought it was most likely that I had put them down on a sideboard or table and then one of my fastidious or absent-minded parents had then tidied them into a drawer. Either that or my girlfriend who had driven back from Exeter had pocketed them. All I was sure of was that this was not my fault.
My girlfriend was insistent that she had handed the keys to me and my parents claimed they had not seen them, but I suspected they were all lying. They did at least, try and make up for themselves being to blame by helping me turn the house upside down to look for the disappearing key. But we were getting nowhere and I was getting frustrated and angry. Not just because our day out was being postponed, but also because most of my stuff for the show was in the car and in any case I also needed it to get to the far flung gigs I am doing over the next few days. And this key could not just have disappeared.
My girlfriend started looking through a bag that I had already searched. "They're not in there," I snapped at her. I was in a very bad mood, because one of these three people who I loved was responsible for this and my day was being ruined by their forgetfulness or stupidity.
I wondered if somehow I had managed to lock the key in the boot of the car when I was getting all my computer paraphernalia out last night. But then surely the car could not be locked, although I knew that there was a feature where the doors would lock if you accidentally pressed open on the key and then didn't open a door. I hadn't slept well and was tired and my logic was all fugged up. Surely it was impossible to lock the key in the boot and yet as we searched through pockets, bags and drawers for the fifth time this seemed the only possible solution. We had rung the pub who it turned out had found some car keys, but ones for a Saab, not a Golf. Logically the key had to be in the house or in the car and it didn't seem to be in the house. I was getting more and more exasperated and angry. My daytime off was being ruined and so probably was the rest of the week and I was very stressed. I got cross as people looked in places they had already looked, but mum said that when this kind of thing happens it always ends up being found in a place where you have checked already. In looking too hard we were maybe all failing to see what was in front of our faces.
But now we were having to make crazy plans. My girlfriend had already offered to go back to London to pick up her car key (and if only she had thought to bring it with her then this whole shambles wouldn't have been a problem - her fault again), but I had told her that was ludicrous as the key had to be somewhere in the house. I totally suspected that my dad had put it somewhere and forgotten all about it. I accused him of as much and I think that mum secretly did too. This had been going on so long now that whoever was to blame was going to have quite some explaining to do.
I worried it might be me, as I have been quite tired and absent minded recently and made a few silly mistakes like this. But it couldn't be me as I had looked everywhere that I might have had it.
Calls were being made now to garages to see if they could get us into the car to see if the key was in there and to insurance companies to see if my girlfriend could drive my mum's car (I had a gig in Taunton so wouldn't be sure of making it home and back in time for the gig). I was in a very pissy mood indeed. We'd been looking for about two hours, everyone's days had been turned upside down. What if I had locked the keys in the car? This would be entirely my fault.
My girlfriend was actually getting ready for the long and needless drive home, when finally logic kicked in and I realised it was actually impossible to lock the keys in the boot even with that automatic locking function and I am so anal about checking my car is locked that there is no way I could have walked away without the key in my hand. And suddenly there was some clarity in my brain and I thought about how I had come in with my bags and the new computer and set up in the lounge and I realised that the key must have been with me then.
I went into the lounge and looked in the bag the computer had come in (for the third time) and the computer box (for the fifth time) and the bag I had snapped at my girlfriend for looking in for the fourth time. I put my hand into the main compartment.... and pulled out the key.
Somehow I hadn't seen it the other times. I was flabbergasted because I knew I would never put it in that bag, but realised that maybe it had been knocked in there, off the tiny coffee table, when I had been playing on my new toy or setting up the microphone.
I could have been a dick about it and pretended I had found the key somewhere else, maybe in a drawer and continued to blame my innocent dad, but I came clean and let everyone know that the hunt was over and there was no need for anyone to go on six hour drives to rescue the situation (and imagine how annoyed my girlfriend would have been if I had found the key once she had got back).
Instead I decided to be a dick about it in a different way and refuse to properly apologise and instead suggest that one of the others must have found the key, realised they were responsible and decided to frame me for the crime. Probably my girlfriend. As the key turning up in the bag I had barked at her not to look in seemed like divine justice. It was too sweet.
I guess these three people must love me quite a lot as they put up with my stupid protests and refusal to own up to responsibility and ruining their days and only lightly took the piss out of me.
My girlfriend and me managed to have a shorter than planned trip up the gorge and mum and dad managed to get to Wells where they were due to wish my grandma a happy 99th birthday.
I, at least, felt ashamed of the fact that I had caused this furore, accused everyone else and failed to satisfactorily apologise when I was shown to be culpable (though you have to admit it does seem likely it was really someone else) and it took me all day to get over the stress and embarrassment.
I really am the most enormous prick.
But I still think my girlfriend probably found the key in her pocket and framed me.
You know I am right.
