Locked Out of Car
I live in Winnipeg, taxis here do not open your car for you..
When I was a much younger man in my early 20s, I locked my keys in my parents' 1974 Nova which I had parked outside a strip club in Bridgeport, CT. Apart from the fact that it was a terrible neighborhood and I was low on cash from having spent it inside the strip club, this was before the advent of the cellphone and I had no payphone nearby. So I had to walk to a few nearby residences and ask complete strangers, who were black (I am white) to use their phone. I think I knocked on a few doors before someone apparently took pity on my pathetic ass, and let me use their phone, although they would not let me in the house and made me call from the front porch.
I realized calling my parents was out of the question with my car parked in front of a strip club in a seedy section of Bridgeport where people like me were not supposed to be. So I called my Grandfather, who was actually closer, and concocted a lie that worked. My Grandpa was a huge fisherman, and I used to go fishing with him all the time. I noticed that across the street from the strip club there was a Bait and Tackle shop. So I called Gramps and said, "hey Gramps, I stopped at the Bait and Tackle shop to buy some sandworms (a live bait used to catch striped bass in CT) but the ones they had were kind of dead looking. Locked my keys in the car. Can you come and pick me up?" Gramps never saw a neighborhood anywhere that scared his ass, he was in the US Navy and served all over the world.
My Gramps broke into the car (which was my parents' car) with a coat hanger he brought. My Grandpa had like a third grade education but he was handy as shit and got in that car with the coat hanger in like 30 seconds with no damage. And he never said a thing to my parents, dismissing it as nothing and just helping his Grandson in his head.