None of us are without embarrassing memories. We’ve all said or done something wrong, like telling the waiter “you, too” by reflex when they tell you to enjoy your food. Most of those little moments don’t stick with us. We feel embarrassed for a few days but then it fades and we forget about it in lieu of new interactions gone awry.

One instance that haunts me the most took place in 2018. My Pomeranian needed a harness but, due to how much fur she has, she could not wear a flat harness as she had learned to maneuver out of them by making use of the cushion of her fur. I needed a vest harness for her and I found Walmart to be lacking. So I packed up my dog and we headed off to Tullahoma’s Petsmart one fateful Friday to make sure she got one that fit.

It started out as a great day. She was happy for the road trip, and I was relieved to finally have a harness I felt confident wouldn’t result in her getting free and me chasing her for an hour. I didn’t know I was making a grave mistake as I stopped at O’Charley’s to grab some food to-go, but I realized it very quickly. I left my car running, using my main set of keys so my dog would have air conditioning and I thought I had my spare ones in hand. But I had the sinking realization they were in the car the moment the door closed … with my cellphone. Thankfully, the helpful staff of O’Charley’s let me use their phone to call the non-emergency line, and Manchester police came out to help me open my door. Some districts don’t offer to open doors for motorists anymore, so I was grateful to have their unexpected assistance. Seeing as I don’t go to Manchester often, I didn’t have a clue who else to call.

Admittedly, I was frazzled by the time I got back in my car and I felt it was appropriate to get some chocolate. Most fortuitous for me, there is a whole Russell Stovers Chocolates shop right in Manchester. Determined to drown my embarrassment in chocolate, I set my phone’s GPS and off I went.

My misadventure followed me as I opened the door and my dog leapt from the driver side door before I could react, streaking out into the grassy lot bordering the incredibly busy highway. In my panic, I threw my phone, spare keys and wallet back into the vehicle as I tried to capture her. When I finally caught her, I once more had to ask the staff of the store to let me use their landline to call the police in hopes they would prise my door open.

As fate would have it, the very same officer showed up – this time with a second car. I’m certain he thought something nefarious was going on and brought back-up, which only served to make me feel even worse. He popped my car’s door open and although I didn’t even get the chocolate I wanted, I headed home before I had the opportunity to lock my keys in the car a third time.

I now use this series of unfortunate events as a metric by which I gauge all embarrassing moments. If it isn’t worse than the time I locked my keys in my car twice in a five-minute span of time, then I don’t sweat it.

Standard reporter Nikki Childers can be contacted at design@southernstandard.com