misadventures

Days 23-24: How Losing a Key Became a 3 Day Ordeal

Jen, Jane, and Ryan loving that coffee

I have no idea how I lost the key – that’s the nature of something being lost isn’t it? I went to the van to get my running shoes, and then played some frisbee with Suzanne (Jane’s sister) and Michael. Innocent enough, right? Next thing I know the band and the whole Sundermann family is tearing up the house, the street and the park, looking for some scintillating grey metal.

OoooKKK. We can still make it to the show with all our equipment by borrowing two cars. The next morning if we haven’t located the missing key we’ll get Enterprise to make us a new one. Easy enough, right?

Ryan in the new rental van. Where did that Obi Wan tie come from?

We play the show at Felix’s (which was badass, by the way). Tons of fans, almost all friends of Jane, who seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves, and a hazy “afterparty” in a STL basement with the booking agent, sound guy, and some of their friends. Great night, ready to rock our last show in Chicago. Call Enterprise the next morning and they send over AAA to make a new key. Simple enough, right?

Jane and Sasha with the new van

This AAA guy tells me that you can’t just make a new key, despite the fact that the van doesn’t even have power locks or power windows. There’s a little chip in the key that sync’s up with the van’s computer, and it takes 30 minutes to do so. Intended to reduce theft, it apparently has just increased the number of straight up car jackings. Anyway Mr. AAA locksmith can’t get it to work. Chicago is 5 1/2 hours away and our show isn’t until 1130 so I’m not worried. Time enough, right?

After two and a half hours he tells me he can’t do it and peaces out. That’s it. No word of help, no advice. So I call Enterprise and they say no prob, tow it to a dealership and they’ll be able to make a new key. Fine. But now it’s 3 and I’m starting to realize that if it takes the alloted 75 minutes for the tow-truck, 20 minutes to get towed, and another 30 to get a key made, we’re cutting it really close. And that’s assuming everything is copacetic. As you can imagine, it wasn’t. Fortunately Joanie, Jane’s mom, had the brilliant idea of getting a loaner van from Enterprise. So I called.

Next thing I know I’m coordinating SIX separate entities

which have little to do with each other and little regard for how quickly this issue gets resolved. I have nothing but gratitude towards Enterprise – they really helped us out and were very kind. The scene was just hilarious – six disparate companies.

I’m on the phone with (1) Enterprise central office, and they have to call (2) Enterprise in New Orleans to OK the van switch. Then, they call (3) Enterprise St. Louis to OK the deal. Next they call (4) AAA to get the tow truck, and AAA calls (5) a local towing company. Finally, there’s (6) the dealership we get the vehicle towed to. At one point I’m on a four way conference call with Enterprise Central, Enterprise New Orleans, and Enterprise St. Louis. Ridic.

Somehow the beauracracy is well oiled and we manage to slip through a pile of paperwork into a loaner van for the Chicago show. We end up making it with about thirty minutes to spare, and play a killer last show. Big shout out to Ryan’s friend Elissa for bringing a crowd. Plus I got to catch up with two amazing people from study abroad, Sasha and Montana, and party balls with old Rice friends Kirby and Darren. Awesome hosts. But I digress.

The next morning we drive back to St. Louis with the intention of a quick pick-up-the-van stop on our way to Arkansas. We’ve got to get back to Austin for a wedding on Saturday and it’s already Thursday at this point. I call Enterprise to find out where the van is. They don’t know.

What? So I start calling Chevy/GMC/Buick dealerships and asking around. No one knows where this van is. What the hell?

Enterprise figures it out and calls me back, so I call back the dealerships I’ve been asking and let them know I found our van. Turns out the tow company just dropped off the van without a word and the service guys at the dealership had no clue who owned the van or what to do with it.

I tell them what’s up and they say it should only take a half hour. Yeah right.

We show up at three hours later at 6 and the service guys have all gone home. No one knows what’s up with the van and they’re trying to jump it because it “won’t start.” That’s because the key doesn’t work.

OK, we’ll show up first thing in the morning. We all wanted to watch “The Hangover” anyway. We’ll just have to drive the 18 hours from STL to Austin all on Friday.

We call Friday morning and they say it should only take a half hour. Sure….

I don’t believe them, but know that we have to be ready anyway. Jane and I head down to the dealership and whaddayaknow, we wait two hours! Finally, the guy comes out and tells us that the key they’ve been trying to program for the past two days, the one made by the original AAA locksmith that couldn’t do it, doesn’t work. I know, gasp in mock surprise. All they have to do is make a new key and it will take a half hour!

This time, that’s all it takes. Three days later, we have a replacement for our lost key.

There are so many freaking Dunkin' Donuts in the NE (and Chicago) it's ridiculous

Day 25: Suppositories

The tour has now been over for 3 days, but I’m still recovering so I have had no chance to write. So much to tell! Day 20 in NYC, traveling to St. Louis and staying with Ryan’s family, hanging and playing in STL, losing the van key and the ensuing madness, our last show in CHI-city, plus anal suppositories. Yes we live a charmed life and have much to tell.

But since I’m still dealing with the Ho Bus in NOLA (how will we get it back when it accelerates so slowly and won’t exceed 30 mph?) you’ll have to wait a few more days for all the details.

In the meantime, I’ll share a little anecdote which some might find hilarious whilst others find vulgar.

Someone (no names will be mentioned to protect the self conception of our anecdotes protagonist, referred to as “zed” to retain gender neutrality) had not experienced a bowel movement in over a week. Chalk it up to poor eating habits, too much peanut butter and protein bars, or 13 hour averages between meals but whatever the case it came to a vicious conclusion at dinner Thursday night. Zed’s contorted face alarmed the others present at the table; was zed OK? No, zed said, because zed hadn’t crapped in over a week. What a terrible predicament. Zed’s discomfiture had exacerbated over the course of our travels and now prevented zed from even being interesting in watching “The Hangover” until zed’s “hangover” was expelled. I left the table and hauled it to Walgreens. Zed needed immediate relief, so I bought the quickest acting box I could find. I did not read active ingredients, warnings, or method of dispense.

Upon arrival at the table, one band member commented, “haha, hopefully you didn’t get anal suppositories.” We all chuckled. Zed tore into the package with delight and looked up wide eyed. “These pills must be made for horses!” Four rather large, torpedo shaped capsules grinned up from the plastic. Oh no. I look at the box and on the bottom right hand corner, in plain english, beamed the word “suppositories” in shining whine.

Such is life, mistakes are made, and many distasteful jokes ensued. I felt kind of bad until zed delicately placed the suppository in it’s rightful bed and experienced immediate relief. The package said it would work from 15-45 minutes after application; our disgruntled compatriot hit the toilet after less than a minute. Zed was, in the end, grateful that zed didn’t have to wait eight hours for stool to soften or an organic supplement to work it’s magic. Jordan was, in the end, grateful zed’d let him chronicle the story on this blog.