How to break into a car.

There we were, standing in the middle of Coles carpark. My mouth was open but no words would come out. Welsh was looking from my car window to my face then back to the car window again. Well not the window exactly, to the inside of my car. My ignition to be precise. And to the thing that was stuck in my ignition.
Finally, words came. They were not nice words. I kicked a tyre and tried not to cry. Stupid car and stupid keys and stupid me for locking them in there.
"Where's your spare key?" Welsh asked
"In my bag."
"Where's your bag?" he asked.
"In my car."

At that moment a big old four wheel drive pulled in across the road. Welsh, who practices this sort of child of the universe friendliness, skipped over and stuck his head through the drivers window. I couldn't hear what was being said but in no time, he had recruited a little helper for us.

"Dontcha have a spare key?" He asked
"Sure she does" Welsh replied "in the car there."
"hmmmm" said 4WD "What you need is a slim Jim."
"ohhh....a slim jim!" I said "Couldn't we just use packaging tape?"
Welsh raised an eye brow at me and i decided to keep my petty criminal past to myself at that moment.

"Whatcha doing?"
We turned around to see a guy in a bandana and a cap strolling towards us.
"Keys locked in car" I said to him.
"No spare?"
I pointed a hitch hikers thumb towards my bag on the passenger seat.
"Hmmm" said Chinese Mafia "What you need is a slim Jim...or some packaging tape."

Meanwhile 4WD was making phone calls to rearrange coaching sessions. He's in the Australian Open you see. He'd hurt his wrist the day before though. I almost made a joke about this being so much more fun than winning a grand slam but decided that i am not that funny actually. I found all this out while Chinese Mafia and Welsh shoved various loops of coat hangers between the window and the door.

After awhile, i got bored. I went to the video store. Called my dad. Considered going to get a beer or something.

As i was walking back to the car, a small man with glasses approached me. He was carrying a black case.
"Did you lock your keys in the car?" He asked.
"Yes i surely did and there are steaks in there. My dinner you see. And i am bored and hungry and annoyed because some smarty pants thief broke into my car about 6 months ago and stole my Ipod, but between an Australian Open Tennis player, a member of the Chinese Mafia, a Welsh Engineer and well, me, we cannot seem to get in and what is in that case?"
"It's a tool kit, i just happened to be walking past with it" replied Rabbits Foot.
"okayyyyyyyy" said I.

So Rabbits foot spent some time shoving a screwdriver in the already broken lock from the Era of The Stolen Ipod.

Two Irish lads who were playing soccer, shirtless in the street, also came over to have a look.
"Where do you live?" they asked, very concerned
"Just down the road, but my house keys are also on that key chain."
"ohhhhh...." they paced around alot and peered through windows and tried the boot a few times.
After while they got as bored as me and returned to their game.

Two drunken men who i has walked past earlier and given a wide birth finally strolled over. Snatching the coat hanger off Welsh, one of them screamed instructions to him. Chinese Mafia had gone back to his official role of trolly boy. Rabbits foot was busy srcatching up the paint work around my lock. 4WD had suddenly turned his back towards to the street.
"Whats up?" I asked him
"Oh...that guy over there, he once asked me out for coffee."
"Did you go?"
"Of course not" he fake laughed.
I wondered why it was so important to him, for me to know that he was not gay. i also wondered if the the coffee date guy knew how to break into a car.

Mr Shouty was really getting into his groove by this point
"Hold this!"
"Pull"
"Aghhhhh...Bloody hell"
All in thick slurry of a Serbian accent.
Meanwhile, Mr Shoutys friend was muttering discouragement from the side lines. They accused each other of being drunk a few times. I was hoping for a fist fight but alas, no punching.

"You know what we should do?" said 4WD (by this point, we had established ourselves firmly as spectators because the testosterone around that car door was fairly intense. "We should get some super glue and shove the coat hanger inside the window, until it touches the lock, then let it dry, then pull the lock up."

I volunteered to go into Coles and buy the super glue. Everyone else ignored me and kept swearing at the door.

By the time i got back, there was a new cast member. A lady had volunteered to call the RACV. They had coluded and come up with a weirdo story about her being in my car and locking the keys in the boot and some other such nonsense, so that i wouldn't have to actually join the RACV myself.

"HOOOORRRAAAY" yelled Mr Shouty (who else.)

The door swung open, The Lady hung up her phone. Mr Shouty's friend ate some humble pie. 4WD got back in his car. Rabbits Foot stood there grinning. I hugged Welsh and we all laughed, euphoric, feeling like we had won The Amazing Race or Beat The Star. I mean, if we can break into a Barina, what can't we do? (and yes, i acknowledge i did very little.)
Mr Shouty made a speech about always trying to help people and we all shook hands and Welsh told me to hug Shouty. I declined on the grounds that I was grateful but not that grateful and hugging a drunk stranger in a car park is not that cool.

This is the best day of my life i thought to myself as we left the steaks, forgotten, to rot in the hot car. We walked towards a bar and Welsh put my spare key in his back pocket for next time. And i thought to myself, isn't it funny how sometimes you can see the key you want so very much, but you just have to be patient and enlist the help of strangers to help you get it. And why not keep a spare one, with someone you love?
And it was not exactly a metaphor for life, but in that moment, it felt kinda close.