The Biggest Loser

I tried to be patient, but the tension was building. My stomach felt like I had just eaten a supersized breakfast burrito. I knew the feeling - it’s because when I pulled up to the gas pump, I discovered I didn’t have my wallet. I normally keep it in my console; or if I take in the house,  I put it on the dresser.  When I couldn’t find it after a thorough examination of the truck, it was time to call home. 

Foregoing any pleasantries, I said, Hey, do me a favor. Can you see if my wallet’s on the dresser?”

“Let me check.” After a moment she returned.  “No it isn’t. Where did you have it last?”

“Well, if I knew that, I wouldn’t be calling you,” I thought to myself.  I wisely let that statement slide  because I needed help. Instead, I said, “Can you take a look around and call me back?”

While I was waiting on the return call, my mind began waging war with itself. The sensible part of me was saying,” Chill out. It’s around. Just stay calm.” Meanwhile, The Other Part of My Brain was telling me that some criminal was already draining my bank account,  stealing my identity, and selling my grandchildren into slavery.   Which credit card to cancel first?  Where do I go to get my new driver’s license?  Can I get Liam Neeson to rescue the grandkids?

The phone rang. “I checked everywhere and couldn’t find it,” she said.  The knot in my stomach grew. “I looked in drawers, the bathroom, and the basement. I even looked down the street in case you put it on the top of your truck.”  

“Ok.” I gnashed my teeth. I knew she was was referring to an incident a few years ago when I left my iPad on the roof of my car.  We found it a couple of miles down the road where it was flatter than, well, an iPad.  My wife is a master at provoking me at the most inopportune times. 

I pulled away from the pumps and found a space where I could make one more deep search of my pickup. Only then would I go into full panic mode. I went thru  that vehicle like a DEA agent at a border crossing. Nothing - although I did find a half pack of gum, an unpaid parking ticket, a pacifier, and a pocket knife that had been missing for about 3 months. 

I reached in my back pocket to get my phone. Time to call back with the final report before I drove home and tore every room apart. That’s when I noticed my phone was on the dashboard. So what’s that in my back pants pocket?  It wasn’t. Yes it was. Tucked away in the back right pocket of my jeans was my wallet. I began cursing myself.  This was the equivalent of looking for your glasses while they’re sitting on your head, or unlocking your car so you can look for your car keys.

I suppose this kind of thing can happen when you have ADD.  I don’t think my memory is fading, it’s just I don’t pay attention to what I’m doing. 

I’ve done so many forgetful things in my life. For example,  I bought a bright red truck because on more than one occasion I couldn’t remember where my car was in a Piggly Wiggly parking lot. And that’s nothing compared to the time I forgot where I parked my rental car - at The Mall of America!  Believe me, this was a whole lot scarier than a grocery store. There are several decks with dozens of levels marked by colors and letters to remind you where you parked.  Of course, if you don’t pay attention to any of that, it doesn’t do any good. My situation was made even worse because my automobile was a white Ford Taurus.  There aren’t but about 4 jillion of those around. 

After 45 minutes of searching while pushing the panic button on the key, I began to panic.  That Other Part of My Brain was telling me that in a few months, some shopper would find my bleached bones lying on the ground, car keys still clutched in my hands. Eventually, I heard the car horn.  The Taurus was answering my call for help! However, the acoustics of the deck made it almost impossible to determine where the sound was coming from. So, it took at least 30 more minutes until I was reunited with my rental car. I hate ADD.  

And now, I have no choice but to report this to my wife.  And I know it will be yet another embarrassing story she will tell at parties, bring up during arguments, and taunt me with forever. 

I made the call. 

“Did you find it?”  She asked. 

“Yep.”  

Then came the inevitable question.  “Where was it?”

There was no hesitation. “In the console. It was turned sideways and I just didn’t see it.”

“Oh, ok.  That’s happened to me before,” she answered, satisfied.  

I guess there are things you never forget.