As I was running to my car this evening I lost my grip on my keys, and they sailed directly into the mouth of a waiting storm drain. I laughed deliriously for about ten seconds, then tried to see if I could find them. I couldn’t see into the drain, and I couldn’t feel anything as far as I could stick my arm in, but I was able to dislodge the cast-iron grate and lift it enough to see that I might have a chance of getting it all the way off. I ran back to my apartment and recruited my roommate to come help me. Together, we lifted the grate clear of the opening.
With a flashlight, the glint of my keys was visible amidst a pile of fall leaves that appeared to be floating on the sewer muck. They were maybe four feet below street level. I tried to step in, but could feel no bottom with my boots. Instead, I handed my glasses to my roommate and went in upside-down from the waist up, my legs still on the street. I grabbed the keys, set them well clear of the drain, and together we replaced the cover.
It was an eventful evening.