25 Year Class Reunion – The Key To Happiness

I attended my 25 year class reunion last weekend.  I had a great time, and was very literally, the last one to leave the Indian Creek Vineyard where we held the party.  I was chatting with the owner as he was closing things down for the night, and then I headed for my car.

As I got there, in the dark barnyard, I reached into my front right pocket for my keys. -- Strike 1!

Front left pocket?  -- Strike 2!

Shirt pocket? -- Strike 3!

I had been to the car to put away some wine that I bought.  Nope, not in the door locks.  Not on the ground that I could tell.  CRAP!  It's after midnight, and the spares for this are 165 miles away.  I caught the owner before he makes it back to the house and we look a while (5 minutes) before he heads off to get a flash light.

I keep trying to search, but there are few lights, and the grass is long and wet with dew, so everything glistens.  I double check my front pockets again.  Nope, same stuff as before, but no keys.

He got the flash light, and we searched by the car.  We searched where I stood and talked.  We searched by where the band was.  We searched the path that I carried the tables us after the band was done.  We searched the bar area.

Nothing.

So, I went through my pockets again…

Right front – Key to mom's house, camera, loose change.
Left front – Blackberry
Shirt pocket – Empty
Right rear – Wallet
Left rear – Car keys.

What kind of mindless simpleton puts their car keys in their back pocket?  I guess that would be me.