I sat down to write a post an hour ago.
Spin class with the triathlon team was a success, the shower felt great, and it was time to find some inspiration before bed. That 7 a.m. swim workout always arrives sooner than I want it.
Then a siren passed my window. And another. And another. And another.
It was quarter after ten, I was tired, and yet…. Damn curiosity complex. Google. CoMo fire dispatch. Nine units. Structure fire. MapQuest. Realllllyyyyy close. 2.5 miles close.
Camera, notepad, and car keys in tow, I headed out. Good song on the radio. Good night.
It turned out to be some smoke and not much else. Another Missourian reporter showed up, and then two more, so I left.
Well, tried to leave.
My keys were not in my pocket. They sat conveniently next to my apartment key on the center console inside my truck, while my doors were locked.
I marched back up to the scene, not to ask the officers about the incident, but to inquire as to any good techniques for breaking into a car.
There was a spare key hidden somewhere underneath the truck, so I began to search. I ingested my daily level of protein from the pleasant rain of rust flakes floating down off tubings and pipings on the undercarriage. Who really needs Wheaties?
Forty-five minutes later, I had numb hands, one key, the need for another shower and one shooting star sighting. Ideal conditions for shooting star viewing parties do not include laying on the asphalt of a stranger’s driveway in early October at 11:30 p.m.
And all for a non-story I wasn’t even obligated to cover. It’s quite tempting to leave curiosity on the nightstand and shut off the lights next time.
I’m headed to bed now – the 7 a.m. swim workout is much closer.