The Valet Parking Fun Zone

Owner doesn't like attended parking. He's too cheap. But every once in a while I get a special treat and visit the valet. This is like visiting a key fob singles bar. First you get to be held by a total stranger, then the most exciting thing happens. You are draped over a hook really close to other keys and fobs. It's like sitting on a stool in a crowded bar. Everyone's talking and jammin to the elevator music usually played at the hotel or restaurant front door. As the key case is opened and closed, we all boogie to the beat of the music. It's a key fob party!

It was about six months ago when Owner went to Los Angeles for a conference. It was valet only parking, Yee Ha!. A real cute brunette carefully parked the car then held me real tight while she trotted over to the key locker. I dreamed about being hung next to one of those European sports fobs. You know, the kind with lots of buttons and a sleek shiny finish. Just as I reached my peak excitement she stuck me right between Bubba and Clyde. Bubba was a monster truck fob from Texas and Clyde a restored Chevy from Alabama. What a mistake. Bubba kept asking me, "now tell me again what is it you do, you count?" "Hey Clyde, get this, this guy counts for a living" Bubba announces. I try to hide behind master key's scratchy surface for protection. Fortunately a few moments later the little brunette takes Bubba and Clyde away to their owners.

Next thing I know in comes a cute little Asian model named Ami. She was one of those slim and thin types with lots of buttons and features. A realy high tech fob. Immediately we hit it off. Ami and I had a lot in common, she was really impressed with my cryptographic features, how I protected the network and the environment. We started to compare the origin of our parts, mainly all from China. We soon realized how much alike we really were. Suddenly my heart sunk. Could Ami have been strategically placed here to try and learn more about me. Was I being compromised? Quickly I swapped codes just in case and changed the subject. We talked about the weather and the excitement of hanging in the valet key locker. "Do you come here often" I asked awkwardly. Suddenly we had nothing to talk about and I felt very strange, alone and violated.

About this time Ferrari was slung on the other side of me. She was one of those fast and curvy models with an Italian accent, bright red and very sexy. "Ciao, buona sera", I was speachless. Ciao, I stammered. Italian, what do I remember? I have been to Milan once, and the maid didn't say much. Now let me think. Oh yes, it's Come sta? How are you, was all I could remember. Right away she rattled off Italian phrases like we had known each other for years, she must have talked continuously for ten minutes before she realized I was only politely nodding as if I understood. How embarrassing, now here I was stuck in the middle between Asia and Italy and nobody to talk to. Please come rescue me I wanted to shout out to Owner. All the while switching codes in case Ami was keeping track. About that time the valet came to rescue me, it was a big burly guy with sweaty hands this time. I didn't care, I needed to be extracted from key fob hell. I was so glad to see owner and to be back in my place hanging from the key switch. Owner switches on the radio, it's Fleetwood Mac.

Why not think about times to come,
And not about the things that you've done,
If your life was bad to you,
Just think what tomorrow will do.

Don't stop, thinking about tomorrow,
Don't stop, it'll soon be here,
It'll be, better than before,
Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone.

It was a great night.

The Grim Reaper

The Key Fob Grim Reaper appeared today. Not one of those ghostly looking guys carrying a scythe, instead it took the impersonal form of an e-mail.

Our records indicate that a Security Fob issued to
you will expire on 28 February 2010.

Please check the back of the security device to confirm the
date. This date cannot be extended.

The message was cold, insensitive, direct and condemning like getting notice from your doctor that you have an incurable disease and less than thirty days to live. So what's next? Shall I take a vacation? Say goodbye to all the other fobs and keys I have known along the way? Should I apologize to Owner for the occasional mis-synchronized code causing him to reenter data? No, I must persevere and continue counting and serving until my last binary calculation is over. I will provide faithfully for Owner as I have during the past eight years and go out of this world with dignity knowing I did my best. I want to depart proud of my job well done.

I have heard of other security fobs that get bored with their task and give up early. What's the point, they ask. They see their lot in life as a meaningless counter, providing codes on demand. Early in my career I decided I was not going to succumb to the monotony of counting codes. Instead, I found excitement in my role as a true defender of the network. As somebody that made Owner's life easier and a protector of the environment. After all, without me, telecommuting is not possible. Without telecommuting Owner is subjected to meaningless commute hours. Not to mention the thousands of pounds of carbon monoxide I have rescued from the atmosphere. I bring Owner closer to his family. Like the time when one of them got sick and he needed to be close. Especially when she was ready to move on. Owner needed to be near the hospital so he could be there for the last hours. I made this possible for him. Yes, every time I produce the string of six secret digits I realize the importance of what I do. It helps me stay strong and reliable, to persevere even when times are tough. As I face my own death I know that however it happens I will have served owner and my community well.

Next code please.

Traveling with Owner

I have been around the world although seen little in my travels. I hang off the car's key switch swinging to the tunes of the radio as Owner drives to the airport. Once there he neatly tucks me into the recesses of his carry on. I like to travel. It's a change of pace from the usual daily routine of out of the spare change cup, into the pocket and off to work madness. Sunday's are not even sacred any more as work pressures make Owner feel he has to take a moment to check e-mail. Who writes work e-mails on Sunday anyway? I'll tell you, somebody that wants to impress others that he's on the job 24/7. You want to know who's on the job 24/7? Me, counting codes every minute, that's who.

When we get to the airport it's a journey of anticipation. The thrill of going through the x-ray machine. Will it stop midway and bombard me with radiation? Sometimes I start into it, and it backs up, then moves forward, then back again as if the examiner is looking for the closely held secrets of my inner most workings. No release of the code secrets for you, I try to shout as I am bombarded again with x-rays. I can spend all day in this machine and I am not giving up the codes. Once the inspection is done I normally exit with Owner and wait patiently while he gets dressed. Belt, shoes, ring, cell phone, change, you know the drill. But occasionally we have to go through a more detailed inspection. I know this is a secret plot by the enemy to steal codes, so once I feel the latex gloved hand touch my black shiny case, I swap codes, just for the moment. After all, its my job to defend the network and you never know if someone isn't secretly relaying codes to a back room somewhere. I might be in South Korea during the secondary inspection so one can never be too careful. Let them try to decipher, it's an effort in vain. I will defend the code to death. I remind myself this is less than a month away.

Once we get to our destination I usually get out of the bag and sit on the hotel room desk. Occasionally I go to breakfast or dinner, but I never get to go to business meetings. For this reason, although I am with Owner much of the time, I have no idea what he does. He has to meet with customers around the world, and occasionally goes to dinner with them, but don't ask me about his job, I couldn't tell you. Life in the hotel room is exciting. It's a new place with new smells and sounds, and sometimes I can see out the bedroom window. Flashing signs, neon lights, I imagine it's like Las Vegas, but I have never been there. Owner does not like to gamble. I spend most of my days anticipating the arrival of the cleaning lady. What's she like, will she touch me, how long will we be together, I ask? You have to remember, most of my life I spend with Owner. I get lonely and long for the touch of another person. "What's this she asks" as she stares at the ever changing numbers. Some sort of a device for winning the lottery? Those in the know understand I am the defender of the network. I quickly generate another false code to throw them off. It's my job you know, even on Sunday.