Keys! Keys! Where Are The Keys!

A little over a year before U.S. Government arsonists burned me out of house and homestead, I absentmindedly set my keys down in a cardboard box in which something or other had recently arrived via UPS instead of puting them into the big rubyware snifter where they belonged right beside the box. Spent half a day looking for them about a week later when it was time to drive upslope to begin the annual wood gathering routine. I could not imagine where else they could be. I always put my keys in the snifter. Always. Sitting, plucking away on the banjo later that evening, I suddenly recalled the cardboard box for some reason, got up, looked inside, and there they were.

So I can empathize with whomever misplaced the keys to the destination trailer I recently purchased from Camping World at the end of last month. I bought it to live in while my new house is being designed and constructed, but when the new trailer finally arrived, it was the wrong one. It wasn't the one I had picked out. It was someone else's trailer of same style, length, and width, but slightly different configuration, wrongly delivered to me. Camping World promptly retrieved that trailer after I alerted them to this grand mistake via phone conversation (they apparently had been completely oblivious of the SNAFU before I told them about it), but then they cheekily balked at delivering the one I had actually purchased because the driver who had delivered the wrong one to my place had convinced Camping World management that there was a delivery site issue which would prevent safe delivery of the correct trailer of same length and width onto my property. Good grief.

So I called the transport driver who had just come out the previous day to retrieve the wrongly delivered trailer and asked if he thought he could get the trailer I had purchased safely transported to my place and parked on the pad I had prepared for it. He did not hestitate to declare that he could indeed do that and would be glad to do so the very next day, much to my relief. He kept his promise and smoothly eased the trailer onto its pad without any problem.

After accepting delivery, though, I could not find the keys to the trailer's main door and equipment hatches. A call to the manager at Camping World only set him to scurrying about like a chicken with his head cut off and no semblance of a solution ever crossed his absent little mind. A call to the maker of the trailer led to a solution: a locksmith would come out and make a new set of keys on the spot–at absolutely no charge to me, they pointedly reassured.

A week later I finally found the keys where someone had absentmindedly set them down alongside the on-demand waterheater. They still had the circular paper tab attached, the last 5 digits of the trailer's VIN written on it, and the backdoor keys still had the protective silicon tubing over their blades. Luckily they did not short out any circuitry of the waterheater during transport. I am still debating with myself whether or not to inform Camping World about finally finding the lost keys. It's moot now. So, nah!