Two weeks ago, while in the midst of hosting houseguests and getting prepared to head to the cottage the following week, I suddenly realised I had nothing for Martin's upcoming birthday (which we were to celebrate while away) so I ran downtown to forage for some kind of gift.
And while I was out, I ran a few errands, exchanged a few things, and searched the stores for an something apt - something for "the man who has everything" since he'd been shopping for himself all summer long and there was really nothing left to buy him... my efforts were futile, and I came up with nothing that day.
This story is not about him - this is about ME. (And you will soon feel tres, tres sad for me.)
What I did manage to find that day was for myself - a very excellent pair of black platform pumps by Guess. They're a bit on the trendy side, but nifty-looking with the crisp centre-seam at the toe... in plain black leather, they're totally wearable for a while yet, even as the trend begins to wane. And at $50, that's the right price to pay for fashion-forward items that can't last forever. Thank you, place that rhymes with Sinners!!
I ran and ran that day - I only had about 90 minutes before I had to be back for my kids and whatnot, so with about 15 minutes to spare before camp-pick up time, I hailed a cab at the corner of Random and Nowhere, and hustled back closer to home.
Before jumping out at a grocery store near my house, the drive suddenly slammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding a rogue bike courier weaving precariously through the mid-afternoon traffic. The driver shook his angry fist at him, swearing in Arabic, and apologised for the mishap - my bags were everywhere. I assured him I was fine, as I collected my things and paid the fare. I skipped along merrily at the end of that day, with groceries in hand, kids in tow, and a dinner plan for the whole house for that evening. It's a wonderful life, you know.
The next day, as I was contemplating what to wear to that awesome Burlesque show, I remembered the beautiful shoes I bought! They'll be perfect!! But wait... where's the... what did I... wait. WAIT. OH, NOOOOOOOOOO!!
And the receipt was in the bag and everything.
(This is the part where you should feel sad for me. Cry if you want to.)
I filled out as many online "lost" forms on as many cab company sites as I possibly could... but of course, I've had no replies. Seems close to impossible to track, since I didn't actually call for the taxi pick up, and he didn't drop me off at home... so somewhere in the city, there's a brand new pair of excellent black stilettos, size 5.5, still in their shopping bag, probably deeply embedded beneath the diver's seat.
Or on the driver's feet. (He was kind of a tiny Arab.)
Gah! Do I ever hate losing things... The only good part is knowing what happened to them, so I'm not driving myself crazy trying to figure out where things went wrong.
But still? Boo! Suck!! They would have been soooooo good, too...
Lost anything recently? (Sanity not included.)