Picture it. Beginning of the school year, 1992.
A girl starts high school, and has to buy a lock in the school store for $5 for her locker. The lock had to be bought in the school store as due to school regulations, every lock had to be accessible by a master key (this part of the story is important later on).
For three years of high school, that lock guarded the best locker in the 400-wing hallway. At the end of a bank, it provided more loitering room than any of the lockers in the middle of a bank. I loved that locker.
And I apparently grew to love the lock. I remembered the combination by associating the numbers with (now long retired) Canucks players, and to this day, I still mumble Kirk-Sergio-Walters when I go to open the lock.
Fast forward to October, 2013. The lock that has been with me, guarding my most precious possessions (more often now in the gym) is no longer in my gym bag.
Seriously, the thought that my lok had gone missing forever was far more depressing than it probably should have been.
21 years together... and my relationship with my lock could've ended because I forgot to put it in my bag after attacking the elliptical one night last week.
On a whim, I ask at the front desk of my gym if they have a lost and found for locks.
They put a basket of locks, that all look a lot like mine on the desk in front of me. I'm determined to go through them all until I'm reunited with my precious lock.
Then I remember... my lock is different than all the others because it has a master key keyhole on the back, given that it was bought specifically for a high school locker.
The locks are then narrowed down to only a few of the dozens in the basket.
I try one... not mine.
I try another... not mine.
And then, as if by devine intervention... the third lock opens!
Apparently three locks tried is the quickest ever that a lock has been reunited with its owner.
And I am a happy girl once again.