Irrelevant Cheetah

There are two keys on my key ring that are unknown to me.

Normally, when you go through your keys (a procedure I recommend following every few years or so) you find one or two keys that you know you don’t need anymore. This key goes to the car you sold to Uncle Ernie, and that key goes to the A/V room at your high school. This one goes to the filing cabinet you threw away, and that one goes to your old gym locker.

But the last time I sorted my keys, I found two that I don’t recognize at all. I don’t remember buying them, I don’t remember putting them on my key ring, and I damn sure don’t remember using them. For all I know, they could be keys #1 and #2 to open up Ft. Knox.

Which, of course, is the reason that they’re still there, taking up valuable pocket space. Since I don’t know what they’re for, I don’t know if I need them. I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if the day after I threw them away I discovered their purpose.

“Mr. Donat? It seems that a rich great-uncle you’ve never heard of has passed away and left you a large fortune. He wrote in his will that you have the key to his safety deposit box located at Wewanchurmoney Savings and Loan, and in the deposit box is the paperwork you’ll need to file to take possession of his finances.”
“Um, well, gee… Funny story, there…”
“Oh, you no longer own the key? I’m sorry, then. His will is quite specific. In the event you no longer own the key, all his worldly possessions go to his pet skunk, Fluffy.”

I have done some elementary detective work, of course. One looks like a really small padlock key, though it doesn’t say “Master” or anything similar on it. This is the sort of key that would open a box. Perhaps a box that looks like it holds cigars, but really contains millions of dollars worth of smuggled diamonds under a false bottom.

The other looks like a cheap filing cabinet key. This is the sort of key that would open a filing cabinet containing sensitive documents about top government officials. The kind of documents that could topple a regime.

Or I suppose they could open up an old filing cabinet that I threw away four years ago and a small padlock that kept my comic books out of my sister’s hands when I was six. But I doubt it.