The saga of the keys.

It all began last night around 2000. As I was sitting at my computer chatting with Helen in Champaign, I realized that it was getting to about the time when Karly was going to call. I looked around for my phone and realized that I had left it in the car. So I gathered my car keys and a room key and headed to recover my phone.

I got to the phone pretty fast despite the rough gravel and lack of sidewalk on this end of the building heading to the parking lot. When I returned to my room much to my surprise, my key didn't work. Now this isn't such a big deal when the front desk is downstairs, but here on base the front desk is all the way across base. So I called the desk with my cell phone and headed in my pajamas and shoeless across base to the front desk. When I entered the lobby they greeted me with the keys saying you must be the Lt. that called (as I had told them I was shoeless). I said great and headed back to my abode.

I got back here and tried the new keys and, you guessed it, they didn't work either. So I called the and they sent someone to help. I headed to the car because the wall outside the room is itchy (it's lined with wool carpet, deceptively seventy's looking despite how modern the rooms are). There I sat and talked with my wife until the service vehicle showed up. She rekeyed the room and let me in. Yay!!

So I had a wonderful and peaceful sleep and woke up around 0630 for PT. I got into my PT uniform and headed out the door with my orders, my military ID and a key to the room. Then I realized that I left my reflective belt in the room (this is supposed to be mandatory for running on base). So I turned around and slid my key into the lock and once again I was surprised to see a red light instead of a green light and a click. Needless to say I was a little upset. This time I was caught outside of my room with no car keys and no cell phone. Fortunately there's house phones in the hallways so I go to the nearest one and dial what I thought was the desks number. I got some funny beeps and no rings. So I guessed I got the number wrong. I headed over to the breakfast room in the building next door and found the worker there (a very friendly elderly Italian immigrant whos story I'll tell later) and asked if she could help me get into contact with the front desk. She informed me that I need to dial 9 to get out (this was very pertinent information). So I dialed and there was only one person at the desk and she couldn't leave to bring a key. That's when ding the bright idea came into my head that I was in PT clothes and should just run over.

3 miles later I realized that altitude can play a major effect in ones endurance as I huffed and puffed into the lobby 24 minutes later. Fortunately for me the staff grows at 0700 so there was 4 people working now. The nice legal Mexican immigrant who helped me and gave me new keys was also nice enough to give me a lift. This was good because I wouldn't have made it back in time for breakfast had she not helped. This time the keys worked properly and cross my fingers I hope they should be good for a while.