LOADS of Happy Little Things for September 5

Here are two parallel versions of the morning I had today.
The first one is the grumpy version.  I woke up early and decided to take the dogs to the beach. We get there, I lock the car, we go on to the beach. The dogs are frantic with happiness, It’s foggy and kind of chilly, but they brave the cold water to fetch the sticks I throw in. We all romp and play until we’re exhausted.  The dogs are cold and hungry and limping from fatigue, so I decide it’s time to leave.  I reach into my pocket and my car keys are not there. Mind you, we’ve run up and down the beach, but it’s a huge key ring, so I assume it’ll be very easy to find them.  I criss cross the beach a dozen times at least, to no avail. Meanwhile, both dogs are shivering and whimpering. I call a friend who lives nearby, but she is out of town for the long weekend.  I call Subaru Roadside Assistance, a service that was highly touted by the car dealer when I bought the car.  The operator is snarky and annoyed that I can’t recall how many miles I have on my car, nor can I read the vehicle identification number without my glasses.  She won’t answer any of my questions (specifically “Is there anything that Subaru can do to help me in this particular situation?”) until I give her the necessary information. I hang up on her. I call AAA.  They are more sympathetic, but can’t help.  My phone starts to die, so I can’t call anyone else.  I borrow a phone from someone in the parking lot and call a cab to get a ride home so I can get my spare key and then come back. I have to leave my car at the beach with my purse, iPod, and house keys in full view.  If someone finds my keys before I get back, they can deduce from the Subaru key chain which car is mine and empty it out, or just steal it altogether.

Now, here’s the pleasant version of the same events. I thank God for the friendliness and kindness of people.  When I first realized I couldn’t find my keys, I started stopping other beachgoers and asking if they’d seen them. No one had, but everyone was concerned, and some helped me look around. They in turn told other people, so at one point, nearly everyone on the beach was looking for my keys.  A sympathetic couple let me borrow their phone to call a cab, and the man at the taxi company was very kind.  The cab arrived right away, driven by a lady named Tanya, who was an enthusiastic dog lover and didn’t mind my sandy dogs in her backseat.  She assured me that my car would be fine and she just knew that someone would find the keys and turn them in.  She drove me home, waited until I got my dogs settled and found my spare key, then drove me back to my car. My car WAS fine when we got back, and she knocked $10 off of my fare.  When I got my car opened, and everything hidden and secured, I went back to the beach to look again. I talked to a courteous young lifeguard and a few more beachgoers, and they all promised to keep an eye out for my keys. I drove home and fed the dogs and ate some breakfast.  About an hour later, a girl from the YMCA called and said that someone had found my keys at the beach, noticed my Y membership card that’s attached to the key ring, and dropped them off there.  The staff looked me up, and despite the fact that I’ve let my membership lapse, I’m still in the files so they phoned me to let me know that they would hold my keys at the front desk and I could come get them at my earliest convenience.
So even though the situation was aggravating, I got to talk to several lovely people whom I otherwise would not have spoken to had my original intention of playing at the beach with my dogs gone to plan. I’ve rarely had to RELY on the kindness of strangers, but I am dearly grateful for it.