Not mine, but they all have contact
shh don’t pass that along!!!
Sgt Schwartz
A “little curious”? Man, I’d hate to, or like to, see you get your teeth into something.
Ah, a staff sergeant. Good thing for Bear that I didn’t make a post about how to spit-shine a shoe … the series of short stories he could belabor me with on another such regimented subject might just knock some sense into me.
This is an attempt to save gas?
I just did something often do;
I’ll be comosing a reply while my coffee drips, then when I’m finished typing, and before I submit, I’ll jump up and go get my coffee. And maybe mess around doing other stuff for a while. Eventually I’ll remember to go back and hit “submit reply”.
That’s pretty much as the OP did.
My mom once locked her keys inside her car while it was running. She was pretty embarrassed about having to ask for help and admit what she’d done.
That story, plus the whole carbon-monoxide issue and the risk of theft, made me paranoid enough that I never leave my car running if I’m not in the driver’s seat.
Similar story happened to me about 15 years ago. I was on a road trip with SIL. She had just had a baby and my niece couldn’t have been more than 6 months old. We stopped at a convenience store along I-95. I think I got out to smoke while SIL went into the store for drinks or snacks or something. SIL was driving, baby in the back seat. SIL left the car running because it was a cold night. I got out and hit the door lock button by accident. The car had power locks which I was unfamiliar with and hit the button accidentally. SIL comes back with her purchase and tries the door. SHIT!!! :smack: flashes through my mind.
This is the days before cell phones, so I have to find the pay phone and have to call the motor club to report what I had done. A ticket number was given, but I was advised to call 911. 911 dispatcher actually asked me if the parking brake was set and if there was danger of the vehicle moving. (No, no risk of that). Fire truck shows up 10 mins later. Fire man takes out a tool to break the window. I ask what other options there are. He states, quite loudly, that his mission is to rescue the child trapped in the car. As we still had a couple hundred miles to go on this road trip, and as it was the passenger window that he was about to break, and, did I mention it was cold, I asked again if he maybe had a Slim Jim.
At about this time, the motor club locksmith showed up, talked to the fireman, and opened the door in about 30 seconds.
So, what do I win? 
SSG Schwartz
Ugh. I just had a repressed memory.
I accidentally locked my keys in the car with the engine running once. I had to call my then-husband to come home from work and rescue me. As he listened to my story, he repeated it back in that “how-could-you-have-done-that” voice… “You LOCKED your KEYS in the CAR with the ENGINE RUNNING???” All I could hear were guffaws from his co-workers in the background.
Did I mention he’s no longer my husband…
No, it’s an attempt to protect those that don’t understand why he wouldn’t from biting off his hacky-sack.
It’s a USPS rule.
Betcha!
Okay, I’ll throw my story in here.
My parents had a car with electric windows. The left rear window wouldn’t roll up. I was about 16, and was trying to get the window up for my mother. After fiddling with it a while, I decided to try the driver’s controls. I climbed into the driver’s seat. Nope. No luck. Maybe if I slammed the door it would jar something into place. I reached back, and slammed my fingers in the back door while sitting in the front seat. Of course, I couldn’t reach the door handle from the front seat, and couldn’t contort myself to climb back there. I had to yell and honk the horn until I was rescued.
I didn’t settle for something simple like locking my keys in the car. I locked my HAND in the car.
Not everyone keeps their car keys and house keys together. Spouses sometimes need to lend their cars to one another, and if you live in an urban area there are likely a lot of errands you can do by walking so you don’t always need to take your car when leaving the house.
Walking is what suburban people when they walk the dog so he/she can shit on someone else’s lawn. Otherwise, it’s drive. 
Ah, the city life. Love it. 