The Storage Locker

Long ago the fiberglass doors to a time capsule, long forgotten, were closed...
Leaving it's enhabitents to wait, rust, crumble, and disintegrate...
They were waiting for a day when they would be saved and reunited with their lost companions...

This day came later than anticipated...
Three years later...

So begin Act I:
The claiming of lost things...

After numerous calls informing me, that being the last one in the continental US, I had the great honor of driving 6 hours on the freeway to the spectacular town of Talent, where a toothless man would be waiting behind the counter to greet me and demand more money...

But before that joy could take place we had a few small issues... One, Corky never told me which storage unit was hers, and left only the cryptic clue that there would be a yellow rope peeking out from under the door...
Finally she confessed that the locker number was either J 96 or A 96, helpful information...
You could imagine my surprise upon reaching the lockers and finding that ALL of the units have little yellow ropes...

Issue number two... of course we had no way of opening the locker once we got there, and thought that showing up, unanounced with bolt cutters in hand, might raise some suspicion..

But that is the way it went down...

I visited my favorite antique store and went straight for the giant bolt cutters... They were $30, but I planned on giving them to one of our fine Eugene citizens in an attempt to boost the enconomy by encouraging people to buy new bikes after theirs had been stolen...

Long story short...
My friend at the antique store let me barrow the giant bolt cutters for the day, and gave me another box of crayons to give to my students, and I ended up walking out the front door, trying not to drop anything and getting stuck half way out, with my back hitting the little bell, alerting the old lady behind the till that I was not making a smooth escape...

Six hours in the car and the worst directions ever led me to the correct establishment...
The unit was filled with mostly erotic self help books and magic cards, with the random diploma lying on top of a box.

We took one car load to a thrift store, threw the rest back in the locker, and I walked away with a type writer, and a small box of things...

Next I am going to see if I can get any cash for the magic cards and see if I can get Steve to fly me down there so I can take care of the rest of it...

End Scene