Keyed up

Late Sunday morning, PG announces that he has to change the tires on his car. He’s just purchased new ones that are to be used mainly on the race track, and since he has a track day coming up this week, he wants to put them on today because he has time.

“Time? Today?” I say. “I thought we were going shopping.”

He insists that it will only take him twenty minutes, tops, to change the tires, so there will be plenty of time to head downtown afterward.

I dubiously agree.

I think I’ve mentioned this before, but in case I haven’t, PG and his brother-in-law jointly own a warehouse. Both of them keep all kinds of crap – I mean, useful things there. PG keeps his hobby car, all his car parts, all his tools there. His new tires are also there. So, we must go to the warehouse for him to change his tires, and from there, we will go shopping.

PG starts shuffling around. “Where are my warehouse keys?” images

I don’t even know what they look like, so I don’t help hunt. I stand at the door of the apartment and wait.

He looks around some more, then shrugs. “I must have left them in the car.”

We go down to his car. He hunts all over the car. I ask him what they look like so I can help him. “Keys,” he informs me. “They’re just keys.”


We spend fifteen minutes looking all through the car for these keys. Finally, he goes back upstairs, muttering darkly something about the keys having to be in the apartment then.

I wait in the carpark. Fifteen more minutes pass. PG returns. With no keys. He decides that we’ll go to the warehouse anyway. Why, I don’t know. We can’t get in.

At the warehouse, the two of us search the car one more time. To no avail. Just then, PG’s brother-in-law drives up. He’s come to do some work at the warehouse too, but he at least has his keys. So PG gets in, collects his tires and the tools he needs to change them. I go for a walk, promising to be back within the twenty minutes that he reassures me the changeover will take.

I am back in thirty minutes. PG has, in fact, changed his tires. But he has not yet put anything away. He is standing there talking to his sister, who has come to help her husband. We chat for another twenty minutes or so. His sister invites us for dinner later. We accept. PG now puts the old tires and his tools away in the warehouse.

Back in the car, he suddenly remembers, “I recorded the F1 race. We’d better watch it now if we’re going to my sister’s for dinner later.”

Oh. Although I do like watching F1, that wasn’t exactly what I thought I’d be doing Sunday afternoon. But we do start to watch it. He has a beer. I have a glass of wine. I fall asleep. I wake up after five o’clock, having missed most of the two-hour race. It’s time to head over to PG’s sister and brother-in-law’s house for dinner.

First, though, I want to quickly check my work email. While I am doing this, PG starts to clean up a bit. He pulls out a dining table chair on which he has previously piled some magazines and papers, to put them away properly. On the top of the pile are his warehouse keys.

“Oh, here’s the warehouse keys,” he says cheerily, tossing them on the table beside me.

I drop my head to the computer keyboard with a loud thunk.


10 responses to “Keyed up

  1. hannah – Yeah, organization is certainly not PG’s middle name. The weird thing is that he’s a Virgo, and they’re supposed to be über-organized and anal. I guess he’s the exception that makes the rule, or something like that.

    wenderina – After all this time with the man, I suppose that I’ve learned not to get my knickers in a knot when he does stuff like this … MOST of the time. I still flip out every now and then, when it’s REALLY important. This just wasn’t one of those times, I guess.

  2. Definition of “go with the flow” You were much calmer than I would be.

  3. If I had a nickel for everytime my husband asks me “have you seen my….?”
    I would be a very rich woman.

    Organization seems to be a foreign concept to the male species. LOL

  4. Jazz – I do have to give poor PG a little bit of credit though: a couple of weekends ago, he actually accompanied me to Ikea. Voluntarily! (He ended up buying some stuff too!)

    XUP – And I will say, “Yes, we went shopping for tires for your car. Don’t you remember?!?”

  5. And I’ll betcha anything next weekend when you say you want to go shopping he’ll say, “didn’t we just go shopping last weekend?”

  6. This is why I do my shopping alone. He can do whatever boy things he wants and I do my stuff and all is right with the world.

    The only time we shop together is on vacation since, according to him, “that’s not really shopping.”

    There is a crying need for an eye rolling emoticon in blog comments. Oh yeah.

  7. OMG that sounds so familiar!
    Except, I would have wept from despair and embarrassment and humiliation and anger at myself. I would not have blithely tossed them aside. And I would not have been cheery.

    • VioletSky – Ah yes, once again the differences between a man and a woman take centre stage. They just don’t see the world the way we do, do they?

  8. Don’t you love guys? They’re so organized and dependable and always ready for you when you need them. I’m sure you normally spend much quality time together.

    • Irene – Yes, normally PG and I don’t waste our time together quite like on that particular day. And normally he knows where his keys are. ALL of his keys.