Kearney Park Renaissance Faire has come and gone. This was a nice site and it looked like the actors and battle re-enactors were really having a good time. The weather was quite pleasant, though it was foggy enough at night that our canvas was soaked through each morning.
We saw some familiar faces – Mr. James Fraser and Mrs. Claire Beauchamp of the Outlander saga were strolling about the village green at one point. I always enjoy the cosplay that is out at these small faires, but at every event there is one that is just a standout. These guys did a fantastic job, just fantastic.
There was a wonderful pirate ship in the middle of the green – complete with pirates! The kids were having a pretty fantastic time playing about on it.
Gate was low and our sales were disappointing, but we got some vendor leads on a few other festivals to try out next year. Time spent with family who live in the area was nice and the Captain came up for the weekend, which was also fantastic.
And then… it was Monday.
This picture pretty much sums up the Monday I had.
See, I drive a 2007 Honda Fit. It has those neato programmable car keys, the ones with the clicky buttons that unlock your door from across the parking lot. Well my fancy clicky car keys decided they were tired of mountain living and didn’t want to return to spacious Nuthouse Estates. They stowed away in the van and went to Los Angeles with Captain Sexypants this morning (at 2am), instead. This went undiscovered until Burbank, and precipitated a panicked text at around 6am, which precipitated a panicked phone call to a local roving locksmith.
Me: Hello, are you a locksmith? Can you open a car? I mean, if I lost my key, can you open my car and make a key and shut off my alarm?
Me: Thank god. Help. Because my car keys are in LA and I’m not. Can you help me? I need you to unlock my car. And make me a key. A clicky key. And there’s an alarm. Did I mention the alarm? Can you make the alarm stop? Because the keys are missing. I’m stranded in Fresno and I haven’t had coffee yet. Or pancakes. Can you come soon? To the hotel? Not too soon because I want to take a shower, but like, forty minutes soon? Because my keys are in LA and I need to go to Starbucks and I want pancakes. And to then eventually go home.
Locksmith: Uh. Can you repeat that? And slow down? And, uh, stick to the salient points like what hotel and what kind of car?
Me: It’s a red car. I mean. It’s a Honda. A red Honda. It has duct tape on the bumpers.
Me: This has never happened to me before. I don’t speak Locksmith. Please come. Save me.
Locksmith: That’ll be $265. It’s not cheap.
Me: Fine. FINE. Fine. Dude, I’ll sacrifice a goat and get you a virgin too if you can fix my car.
Locksmith: No. Just the $265.
Me: Thank god. I know this is an agricultural community but I was stumped on the goat.
Well eventually we got things sorted and the locksmith came out and tried to make me a key. This proved to be impossible. It took him two hours and ultimately he failed to rekey my car.
NO GOAT FOR YOU, LOCKSMITH.
We do, however, know that my car alarm totally works, because it went off for about 30 minutes nonstop while he was working. In front of a bank of hotel rooms, where nice people were trying to sleep. I guess it was harder to shut off than anticipated.
I went into my hotel room, shut the curtains and hid from the imagined pitchforks and torches.
90 minutes after that, tow trucks became involved.
This is Tony. Tony works for 1st Class Tow in Fresno, and Tony is awesome. He’s Italian and really friendly and he saved me from the FAILsmith. Call Tony if you ever break down in Fresno. 10/10, highly recommend!
The upshot of the entire day is that the Fresno Honda dealership charges $350 for one new programmable key. And they had to drive across town to another dealership, to get that key. The one key blank in all of Fresno that works in my car.
Because, fuck you, that’s why.
Thanks for that, Honda. I mean, thanks so much for having my key blank in town and for going to get it and for making my car drivable again. I’m super grateful. But really, $350? Is it made of gold? Are there tiny hobbits inside the fob? Is it run on elfin magic? Pixie dust? What is up with that?
All of this is obviously why God invented wine.
I mean, look. I was going to get pancakes on my way out of town. Lemon berry pancakes. I’d picked out the place, had Yelped the menu, was all set up for a nice leisurely breakfast, and… no. I waited for two hours until the locksmith was willing to admit defeat, then I had to walk a whole mile, uphill both ways, in the rain, in searing heat, barefoot, to Starbucks while I waited for the tow truck. Starbucks, for the record, does not provide lemon berry pancakes. Because fuck you, that’s why. You’ll drink your sugar frosted coffee bomb and like it, missy.
Our hotel was, naturally, located on the one street in Fresno without a Starbucks on every corner, and without a damn pancake in sight.
Oh and the wifi at the Honda dealership? Totally broken. Because, fuck you, that’s why.
I finally got my new key at about 4pm, which was too late for driving back home.
I am grateful for family, who not only put us up for most of the run of Faire, but then also came to my rescue with food and a place to sleep tonight, when it became apparent that I wasn’t going to get home before dark.
We’ll try again tomorrow.