The Burgh to The Brum Part I: And Then A Hero Comes Along

 Finally, after three days with wi-fi being either unavailable entirely or set at outrageous prices, I am finally able to tell the story of my travels. (Note: I started this blog post as I sat in the terminal at Pittsburgh International. It was unfortunately cut short with the boarding of my flight.

Pittsburgh International Airport...

A hub that on occasion actually lives up to the "International" component of its moniker.

Air France Flight 8617 to Charles de Gaulle, two-hour layover, Connector to Birmingham, my ultimate destination.

As I sit here in the terminal, glad to be rid of my checked baggage: three full suitcases all painstakingly set at the Air France limit of 50 lbs., I realize that I'm really going to miss Pittsburgh. Not just because of my friends and family and all of the other things that make Pittsburgh wonderful. But because of moments like last night...

As the sun began to oh-so-frustratingly set around 8pm, I drove myself to finally finalize packing my bags. As I rolled T-shirts, stowed shoes and sweaters, and pressed as much weight as I could on my suitcase to get it to close, I had a sudden realization. I had promised my friend Bill that I would loan him my copies of Neil Gaiman's Sandman to read while I was away. So at around 10:30, I called Bill, only to find out that he was at our mutual friend Brad's house on the South Side. Hoping to get this done as quickly as possible so that I could get some sleep before leaving the Burgh, I parked the car in a lot near the 10th Street Bridge, grabbed an armful of graphic novels and walked a few blocks over to Brad's.

Bill was getting ready to leave when I arrived, so we met on the street, exchanging hugs and Sandman volumes. As I handed the books over to Bill, my hands fell instinctively to my side, revealing a horrible truth...my keys were not in my pockets. In my rush to get my books and phone out of the car and head over to Brad's, I completely forgot what I had done with my keys.

As soon as the expletives stopped flying, I asked Bill to give me a lift back to the lot, all the while my head full of frightening scenarios. "What if I left my keys on the roof of the car and someone took them?" "What if I left my keys on the roof of the car and someone took them...and used them to take my car?" As we pulled into the lot, I immediately pulled up the flashlight app on my phone and frantically began searching the area, only to find that...I had locked the doors of the car and left the keys in the ignition...&%$#^*@!!!

After a few minutes of anger-masking laughter, Bill and I finally started thinking of ways to fix the situation. Call a locksmith? How many of those are out and about at 11:00 pm on a Tuesday night? Not to mention how much that might cost. Call the police? Yeah, but then again they might just solve my problem with some carefully placed nightstick-to-window action. Wake up my parents and ask them to bring their keys over? Sure, and hear on the whole ride home from my mother how this is some sort of omen and that I shouldn't be getting on a plane now? Finally, Bill takes out his phone and calls Brad's house. After a couple minutes of listening to a one-sided conversation explaining my plight, Bill puts the phone down and says: "Don't worry, the A-team is on its way!"

In a few minutes, emerging from the late evening fog, came my friends Brad, Dave, and Steve. Armed with straightened coat hangers, screwdrivers, plungers, and all manner of implements that television has taught us can be used to break into a car, they immediately set to work trying to get the driver's side door open. After a few fruitless attempts, me all the while either holding a flashlight or standing off to the side laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, we began to formulate other possible strategies. Deciding to take a chance, I phoned the South Side Police Station. I was informed by the officer that too many civilian complaints had forced the Police Department to no longer allow officers to open locked doors for the public...&%$#^*@!!!

Eventually, Brad, Bar Bouncer and Guardian Angel, informs me that he has a AAA account and would be willing to call them to help me get the door open. Excitedly listening in as Brad called the number on the back of his membership card, I overhead that a AAA employee is on his way to assist us with our problem and will be arriving in approximately...90 minutes...&%$#^*@!!!

Roughly 83 minutes later, the AAA guy arrives on the scene, producing his "tools" which, oddly enough, looked almost exactly like a straightened coat hanger. Employing almost the exact same methods that we had tried, he managed to get the door open.

Just before the AAA worker arrived and began the process of opening the door, Dave and Steve elected to go down to the corner gas station to get some snacks. They arrived just in time to see my door opened and keys returned to me. Being the good friends that they are, they arrived on the scene with a five-pack of White Owl strawberry-flavored cigarillos, a tacky yet greatly appreciated gesture to celebrate this now triumphant occasion.

As we stood in a small circle in a South Side parking lot, smoking our gas station cigars. I realized two things. The first being that I'm truly lucky to have such wonderful, devoted friends. Second, if things had gone according to plan, if I had dropped the books off to Bill, said "Goodnight", went straight home, finished my packing with enough time left for a good night sleep, not only would my send-off not been quite as memorable, I wouldn't have this story to share with my own loyal contingent within the mighty Blog-o-Sphere. It's moments like this that will make me miss Pittsburgh and make my return for Christmas seem all the more exciting. Until then, with a bit of luck, I'll be able to share some more misadventures with you all through this blog, hopefully ones that don't involve this much inconvenience. And with that, this one goes out to The A-team: Brad (Hannibal), Steve (Face), Dave (Howling Mad Murdock), and Bill (B.A.) for being the heroes of my departure.

Coming soon: The Burgh to The Brum Part II: La Vie En Noir

Cheerio, n'at.