Case Closed, Columbo

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Casey's is a chain of more than 2,900 convenience stores across the Midwest and South, where most, but not all, sell gas, minimal groceries, snacks, soft drinks, liquor, and lottery tickets.  Four of those 2,900 locations are in my town of West Plains, MO (population 12,000).  I stop at one of the local Casey's on most days where I buy one $1.00 lottery ticket, an unsweet iced tea with plenty of crushed ice, and sometimes a sandwich for lunch.  I vary which store I stop at depending on where my business in town happens to take me, or my mood.

This week I have gone to the one over by the college, where us young people tend to congregate, on three separate occasions, and each of those visits turned out to be memorable - at least with regard to the rest of my remarkably uneventful, retired life.  On Monday I was handed a very dull and dark, old gray nickel in change, and when I got to the car where I could examine the coin in more detail, I discovered that it had begun its long career circulating though American commerce in Philadelphia, the "City of Brotherly Love," in 1940.  The damned thing was eight years older than me!

While West Plains has four Casey's, quite a point of local pride, it apparently has no resident "coin psychics," paranormal professionals who would feel the old coin, perhaps even put it on their tongues, and eventually provide a personal history of the nickel, so I set it aside and determined that on some slow day at the blog I would "create" a history for the well-worn coin.   You have that to look forward to.

On Tuesday I went back to the Casey's, and as I left the little store, iced-tea and Missouri "Show-Me Cash" lottery ticket in hand, a young lady customer came running out the door after me saying "Sir, you forgot your key fob on the counter," which she politely returned.  Why I had the key fob out of my pocket and on the counter is anybody's guess, and, as far as I can remember (at least several days), the first time in five years that I had ever misplaced it.  I thanked her, claimed the standard excuse of old age, and went putting on down the road.

Yesterday I stopped at the same Casey's again where I went inside and placed the same order.  Upon returning to my car, getting settled in the seat with everything in its place, I reached for the key fob and realized it was missing!  I carefully searched the front and back seats of the little Kia, and when I was sure the fob was not with me, I went back in the store to check with the clerk to see if I had left it in there two days in a row.  I hadn't.  As I began to realize that I might be dealing with a case of raging dementia instead of just simple forgetfulness, I went back out to the car and looked in the glove box where I thought the extra fob was, but it wasn't.

I called my son who was at home and rushing around to get to work.  I told him a couple of places where the extra fob might be and asked him to look for it.  Then I went back into the store for a second look around, and the nice lady at the register helped me search - still no luck.  I went back outside to sit in the car until my son hopefully arrived with the spare key, and when I got to the car I discovered that the doors were all locked!  Twenty minutes had passed, and I was ready to begin walking home when the nice lady from the register rushed out and said, "I've found your key!"  But instead of handing me the errant fob, she got down on her hands and knees and reached under the driver's side of the car and retrieved the fob from the parking lot beneath the car.  I had dropped the damned fob getting in and had not thought to look there, but she had been able to see it from inside of the convenience store!

Case closed, Columbo.

That's just a sampler of how this geezer spends his days.  Gotta love the golden years!