by: Kathy Austin
Don’t forget you’re the owner of that wonderful Chevrolet Venture; so get a nice grip on the only thing that would get it moving – your key. I am a proud owner of this great model, and this Chevrolet Venture keychain is a perfect companion reminding me constantly the answer to the question “Which one is yours in this sea of parked cars?”
Keys are designed to keep our valuables safe. But losing our key is as annoying as having our stuff stolen sometimes. Owning a Chevy Venture makes me proud with this badge – a leather keychain with a round silver plate engraved with the model name. It reflects my car’s personality (and my own, too!). When this treasured possession got lost, I felt like I went to hell in a week.
Before, I had no trouble explaining to a car park attendant which car is mine because my keychain has the exact model of my car engraved in it. By just a mention of the approximate location, like “It is parked in the second row next to the south entrance” and I am pretty sure he would find it very quickly. Within that week, I had this bad experience giving the car attendant my duplicate key attached to a Mitsubishi keychain. The parking attendant gave me a sharp, suspicious look. I nearly lost my cool to tell him, “Don’t look at me like that! I have all the registrations papers here!”
When the thought of finding a replacement came to me, I Google-searched the item and my eyes immediately caught the image of a fine black leather keychain featuring my Chevy Venture. It’s a not-so-exact replica of the one I’ve lost, it being slightly smaller at three inches tall and 1 1/4 inches wide. It still features the Chevrolet logo and the model name “Venture” highlighted atop a silver round plate with a shiny white plastic backdrop.
Every time I remember my experience which the car park attendant, my hands are moving involuntarily to tap my pockets. I am glad my new keychain is still there.
Here’s another funny anecdote to make you value your keychain more: I had a dinner with my boss in restaurant downtown when it rained like Noah’s time. We parked his car right in front of the restaurant. Trapped in the rain after the sumptuous meal, we were forced to wait at the already jam-packed lobby for about an hour. We do not have umbrellas because these were left inside the car. My poor boss is already fuming mad, ran to his car with a plastic folder on top of his head. He was already soaking wet, and yet he can’t open the door. When he came back to where I was waiting, he was laughing loudly and I thought he had gone crazy. He whispered to me, “Oh my God! What would have happened if the owner of that car saw me? I might have spent the night in jail. Our ride is behind the car I was trying to open like a thief.”
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