Homelessness 101

Remember how Paul and I made emergency preparedness packs?

Remember how we've been all about the survival stuff?

Well, it's a good thing, because last week, we ended up homeless and sleeping in a car.

With me around, ANY day can be an emergency.
It's always best to be prepared.

If you haven't done THAT one for date night yet, you haven't really lived.  But we?  We got it checked off the bucket list.  Oh yeah...

"How does a trip to go to Paul's brother's wedding end in homelessness?" you might wonder.  Good question.  I'm going to let Gail Halvorsen, the Candy Bomber, answer that.  He is famous for saying, "From small things come big things," and boy was he right!

Here's how it started: We have known for awhile that Kris (Paul's brother) and Eli (his sweet finance) were planning to get married in Wenatchee, Washington, and I just so happen to have relatives about two hours away in West Richland, Washington.  Being the incredibly cheap frugal person that I am, I thought it would be a great idea to stay with the relatives.  You know, we could catch up with them and not have to pay for two nights in a hotel?  Win-win.

However, when I called my family to ask if we could stay with them, they informed me that they would be out of town that entire week.  Graciously, though, they still offered us their house and emailed me detailed instructions as to where to find a key, where to sleep, etc.  There was a reminder to be careful with the key because the doors lock automatically, so we'd have to be careful not to get locked out.  That would be terrible! I thought, and made a mental note.

We began our trip without any problems.  We went to my relatives' house Friday night, found the key, put it on my keyring, had a great night's sleep, and got up and went to the wedding Saturday.  We made it there with time to spare, had a fantastic time at the wedding (despite the surprising heat) and then stayed for hours at the reception, eating, talking and dancing.

Yep, zombie wedding cake topper.  Totally unique!

The trip between Wenatchee and West Richland had no direct freeway route, so we were winding our way home through orchards and vineyards and canyons just as it began to get dark.  As we twisted along the path, I felt myself start getting terribly car sick and one look at Paul told me that after the big meal he had eaten at the reception, and the way his eyes were drooping, he wasn't going to make the slow trek back to the house we were staying in without falling asleep.

So, we did what any responsible, car sick, exhausted people would do: we pulled into a gas station under the lights of an enormous neon sign (which frankly was better for safety than for sleeping), and we tried to take a nap.  Which worked.  Kind of.  As well as you can sleep curled up in the back seat of a car with a jacket for a pillow.

We woke up around midnight.

Paul was ready to hit the road.  I, however, was ready to find a bathroom.

Immediately.

Except that this gas station was NOT a normal, open-24-hours-a-day sort of a gas station.  That's right.  At 11:50 pm, it was closed.

So, we found another.

Closed.

We drove to a third.

Closed also.

And there we were, in the middle of absolutely nowhere.  Our options were running out.

Emergency List Item #1: Toilet Paper?  Check.  Because desperate times call for desperate measures. That's why it's called an emergency pack.

With everything somewhat taken care of, we wound slowly back through the canyons and twisting roads, switching drivers and singing loudly to my boy bands CD (okay, that one was just me) finally arriving at my relatives' house about 2:30 am.  As we pulled onto their street, I turned to Paul and said, "I don't know if I've ever been so happy to see a house in my entire life."  I was sick, I was exhausted, and I was ready to crawl into a real bed and just sleep.

As I got out of the car and stumbled around back to the garage, I had a terrible sinking feeling and I knew I'd done something terribly wrong.

See, we had a key to the house from INSIDE the garage.  But we didn't have the outside garage door key to get into the garage.  And I?  I--for some unknown, unspeakable reason--had locked that door.  And we had gone out the FRONT door that morning.  Meaning that right now, at 2:30 am, the garage door was still locked.

From small things come big things.  Like one little lock.  Which was pretty darn small.  Being stuck outside someone else's house in another state at 2:30 am, however, is not.

When I told Paul, he didn't yell.  He didn't get mad.  He hugged me, laughed, and then went back to the car to look for a flashlight.

Emergency List Item #2: Flashlight. Check.

Yeah, my mom found us flashlights that also have an emergency whistle.
Pretty cool, I know. 

Because what simplifies breaking into someone else's house in the middle of the night more than actually being able to see what you are breaking into with your awesome LED flashlight?

That's not suspicious at all...

With a flashlight to guide us, we tried the credit card trick with my school ID.  On every door.  Multiple times.  The doors won.

We decided to try to take the window off of the garage.  Emergency List Item #3: Tool kit.  Check.

My tool kit is from Mr. Mitchell, my high school math teacher.
One more reason small towns are the best. 

It wasn't a bad idea, I suppose (short of the cops showing up and Paul standing there with a window in his hands at a house we didn't live in), but it didn't work either.

We tried all the windows in the house to see if any of them might be open.  They were all secure.  Very secure.

We started to get creative.  We went through everything from calling a locksmith in the morning to just leaving everything behind and taking ourselves and the car home.  (Too bad all Paul's textbooks for this semester were on the kitchen table...)

Finally, Paul noticed that they had one of those electronic garage door openers mounted to the side of the garage.

BINGO!  

In the morning we would simply call my relatives (who would hopefully be back inside cell phone range), get the code, and our crisis would be averted.

Relieved, we prepared to bed down for the night. We had few options: the back lawn, my relatives' trampoline, or the car.  Worried it might get cold, we chose the car.

Emergency List Item #4: Blankets.  Check!

My emergency blanket?  A high school graduation gift from Cheryl Okelberry.
See, Hazleton was really saving the day!

For three blissful hours--cuddled up with our emergency fleece blankets--we learned what it means to attempt to sleep in a car.  3:30-6:30 am passed like a dream.

By 6:30 am we were ready to carry out our plan.  After eating and drinking something, that is.  Emergency List Items #5 & 6.  Thank you, Cliff bars and water!

Unfortunately after taking wedding photos and using our battery-sucking GPS, our cell phones were both dead.  VERY dead. That was when we realized our emergency packs were missing critical Item #7.  We had no car charger for our cell phones. (Go buy one right now.  Yes, you!  Go!  Now!)

Quickly, we drove to the nearest Walmart (which we fortunately had located the day before while buying sparkling cider) and bought a car adaptor.  Admittedly, it was cheap and barely worked, but, as my brother likes to say, "It got the job done."  And that really was all we needed.

Waiting until it was a semi-decent hour in Arizona, I called Brent to see if he could get us the garage code.  The conversation went something like this:

"Hey Brent!"
"Uh, hey!  How's it going?"
"Good!"
"Did you find everything you needed in the house?"
"Yeah, we did.  The house is great.  But, uh, there's just one little problem."
"Yeah?"
"Well....I...uh...accidentally locked the outside garage door and locked us out. Like we have the key to the house, but not to the outside garage door."
(Long silence)
"Are you sure it's locked and not just stuck?"
"Yep, pretty sure...So, I was wondering if we could get the code to get into the garage."
"Well, that's not going to work very well."
"Why not?"
"Because the garage door opener is broken.  And I don't remember the code."
"Oh................
(Second long silence)"
"Well, it might just need new batteries.  Go get some AAs and call me back."

And so, Sunday morning we went back to Walmart again to get some AA batteries.  You know how they talk about the Sabbath and the ox in the mire?  I think that day our whole herd fell in.

http://www.shutterstock.com/video/clip-878290-stock-footage-cow-in-a-puddle-walking-away.html 

Armed with a whole pack of batteries, we returned to the house only to discover that the garage door opening key pad actually took D batteries.  Right....

I was laughing and wondering how the story could possibly get better when a neighbor came over with a set of keys in his hand. I was so happy I could have kissed the man.  He explained that Brent had called him and asked him to unlock the house. They'd been neighbors forever and had housesat each others' houses through the years, so he had a set of keys,

Convinced our drama was over, I watched as he tried to put the key in the lock.  It didn't even go in.  He tried the other lock.  He tried the other door.  No luck.

"Hmm....I don't think I ever got their new keys when they switched locks," he said.

Of course not.  That would have been too simple.

So there we stood--smelly, still dressed in wedding clothes, my hair all over the place--stuck and running out of ideas.  Imagine a full day with a hot outdoor wedding, a reception, an episode napping at a truck stop followed by a long, carsick sort of trip back to West Richland that ended in a night in an enclosed car, mashed in the back seat breathing the same stinky air for three hours doing something that sort of kind of resembled sleep.  And then think about how you'd look.

We were probably a desperate sight.

Fast Forward 12 hours.  Things were looking grim. Of course, how would you know?
I couldn't take a picture because...oh yeah!  My phone was dead!

Luckily, just as I was giving up hope, the neighbor returned, dangling a second set of keys. I held my breath.  I didn't even dare to imagine the key going into the lock...but it did.  And just like that, the door was opened.  And the angel in heaven sang.

I stepped gingerly in the front door, feet away from a hot shower and a bed, as though it had been nothing more than a bad dream, I wasn't homeless anymore.  As exciting as it had been for the whole six hours we'd been homeless (I know, we're pretty hardcore), I was more than happy to let it go.

And Paul? Do you know what Paul said?  "Wow, honey.  With you, life is always an adventure."  And then he laughed, kissed me, and sent me to shower.

I knew right then, if we can be homeless for date night and still be madly in love, we can do anything.

And knowing me, we probably will.