2008 Woodie Awards
Sentiments about a three-year-old keychain
Natalie Schloeder
Issue date: 9/7/07 Section: Opinion
- Page 1 of 1
We all have moments we wish we could do over: not running that red light, not having that 7th shot, or not leaving your keys by the bathroom sink. While many of these moments plague some more than others, the bathroom episode recently became my own personal shame.
So there I was putting my notebook and keys by the bathroom sink and ignoring the small voice inside of me that typically tells me not to eat Mexican food. In the stall I went and what even brighter idea should befall me but to play "Dinner Dash" on my phone for all 45 seconds of my business. Moments of unanimated boredom must of course be filled! Not wanting to throw my chances at an expert score, I waited to complete my shift during which time a very large man (or perhaps a female gorilla with thunderous footfalls) wandered into the bathroom and soon found his/its way out.
Immediately I knew something was wrong so I hurried out of the stall, grabbed my notebook, and raced up to my room. Upon turning the handle, finding it locked, and reaching for my keys I realized with horror they weren't on my belt loop. 10 seconds later, I discovered they weren't in the "Ladies Bath" either.
Now you may say to yourself 'What did she lose?' My ID and keys were replaced within an hour and nothing else had held any real monetary value, but is that really the point? Is the severity of a crime judged solely on what the criminal stands to gain; what of what I lost? I'm sure he enjoyed my loads of Duckbills currently accepted absolutely no where in Hoboken or perhaps a Pierce meal on me. Don't get me wrong, I love my duckbills and feeling like I'm living off of hot pockets from the Pierce food (probably why I had to use the bathroom in the first place), but that isn't the point.
Attached to my Sodehxo goodies was a key chain picture of my boyfriend and I at my Junior Formal. While I will never forget the evening as my boyfriend broke his nose the morning of and was highly medicated and make-uped at, I do value that only copy. We all have regrets and regardless of how small the 'mistake' the cost is always high; my mailbox is S-1138 and I'll give you $30 for it.
While he made away with some scrap metal and plastic, I feel as though I was robbed of a memory. My mistake was not leaving my keys by the sink as the situation may first appear; my mistake lied in trusting others to respect my things and have an ounce of ethical gumption to let them be.
So there I was putting my notebook and keys by the bathroom sink and ignoring the small voice inside of me that typically tells me not to eat Mexican food. In the stall I went and what even brighter idea should befall me but to play "Dinner Dash" on my phone for all 45 seconds of my business. Moments of unanimated boredom must of course be filled! Not wanting to throw my chances at an expert score, I waited to complete my shift during which time a very large man (or perhaps a female gorilla with thunderous footfalls) wandered into the bathroom and soon found his/its way out.
Immediately I knew something was wrong so I hurried out of the stall, grabbed my notebook, and raced up to my room. Upon turning the handle, finding it locked, and reaching for my keys I realized with horror they weren't on my belt loop. 10 seconds later, I discovered they weren't in the "Ladies Bath" either.
Now you may say to yourself 'What did she lose?' My ID and keys were replaced within an hour and nothing else had held any real monetary value, but is that really the point? Is the severity of a crime judged solely on what the criminal stands to gain; what of what I lost? I'm sure he enjoyed my loads of Duckbills currently accepted absolutely no where in Hoboken or perhaps a Pierce meal on me. Don't get me wrong, I love my duckbills and feeling like I'm living off of hot pockets from the Pierce food (probably why I had to use the bathroom in the first place), but that isn't the point.
Attached to my Sodehxo goodies was a key chain picture of my boyfriend and I at my Junior Formal. While I will never forget the evening as my boyfriend broke his nose the morning of and was highly medicated and make-uped at, I do value that only copy. We all have regrets and regardless of how small the 'mistake' the cost is always high; my mailbox is S-1138 and I'll give you $30 for it.
While he made away with some scrap metal and plastic, I feel as though I was robbed of a memory. My mistake was not leaving my keys by the sink as the situation may first appear; my mistake lied in trusting others to respect my things and have an ounce of ethical gumption to let them be.