We Tell it Like It Is

On Sunday, April 6, 2008, I was driving my Jeep watching my windshield wipers push away thick drops of rain. As I turned off of Hemlock Lane and slowed down, my muscles tightened. It was 10 minutes before my open house and I took a deep breath in anticipation of making a quick move in the downpour. I jumped out of the Jeep and hurriedly ran to the rear of my car to grab my open house signs. I pulled on the handle of the gate, and it wouldn’t budge. It was locked. I impatiently sighed, ran over to the passenger door, opened it, hit the unlock button, and swiftly closed the door. At that very instant, the most incredible feeling of terror came over me. I dreadfully realized that I did not unlock the door. I locked it. I locked them all. I stood frozen in the bucketing rain by myself; the car running (headlights on, wipers going) with my cell phone, purse, everything locked in it. No gas station or business in sight and my listing was about ½ mile down the road ahead. I stood stunned for a good 30 seconds until I suddenly realized 2 lucky things: 1) I dug into my coat pocket and realized I had inevitably put my keypad to open the lock box in there. So, at least I could still get into my listing and 2) I took up running a couple of years ago. Without further thought, I abruptly broke out into a run. I sprinted as fast as I could down the road in my trench coat, dress pants and dress shoes. I know I must have looked incredibly psychotic to the drivers that passed me and, I must admit, I felt incredibly psychotic. Rain struck my face in great quantities washing off my carefully applied make-up and flattening my perfectly styled hair. This was not my idea of great training for the race I was running in a few weeks (however, I think I was making record time). Soon, I was in the house, looking like I had jumped into a lake. I glanced at my sorry self in the mirror, heard the front door open, and greeted my first open house visitors of the day with a smile.

My name is Karen Collins and I am a Realtor.

P.S. My car ran unmanned for 45 mins. until Pete could arrive (and watch me deal w/the cop that was waiting at my car when I got back) and I never did get my signs out.