So I finally did it, after driving for a decade I finally locked my keys — which were a shopping bag — in my trunk.
Twenty minutes ago, I closed my trunk, and with it any chance of leaving the Westfield Shoppingtown Trumbull mall in a timely fashion.
After placing a call to mall security, through a special phone just after 3 p.m., I began the wait.
Despite the presence of two Trumbull police cars just feet away, I remained locked out of the car and in the cold for nearly an hour.
A mall security officer informed me he “would be right back.” Twelve minutes later, he drove by and informed me through his car window be had another call. I should have learned from “Scream,” that when someone says they’ll be right back, they never are.
At 3:30 p.m., 30 minutes after realizing I had a problem, the security guard pulled behind my car and asked if I belonged to a motorclub. I told him I had AAA and he suggested I call them.
Apparently, all units were searching for some dude, he said.
I informed him of my association with the Connecticut Post, and asked if there was a story to be told. The middle-age gentlemen said no, but informed me that he was considering a change to journalism. I encouraged he considered freelancing.
I then called my neighbor and asked him to bring me my spare key. He said he would.
About fifteen minutes later, he arrived — and within 10 minutes, I was home ending my quasi-harrowing ordeal.
