This happened a few weeks ago.
So, because I was worried about the blizzard we still were contending with, as well as impending and future snowstorms, my mind was preoccupied. One day, I noticed that my reusable mug, the one I now take with me to be filled up with coffee in exchange for a discount, was missing from the passenger's-side floormat, where I usually throw it.
I always do this: Have my mind so filled with ... stuff that I misplace things. My forgetfulness once again shames me. So I retrace my steps to the coffeeshop I probably lost it at. I asked the girl working the counter if my mug's in their lost and found. It wasn't. Damn. Either someone took it or one of the workers threw it away. Poor reusable is lost forever.
But ... I just can't let go. My relationship with this coffeeshop, the one closest to me, the one I've been relying on ever since I got their membership card, would forever be changed if I didn't exhaust every single reasonable avenue to retrieve my beloved mug. If I didn't, how could I ever march back into that place ordering coffee when I would subconsciously blame them for losing my mug?
So the next time I went for coffee at this place, I figure I'll ask again. Different people working behind the counter. So I describe the mug, "It's from the University of St. Thomas and it's grey. ..."
And just then, Bree, this cute barista chick I see from time to time, pipes up and says, "We have it! A customer brought it to us!" Bree looks down underneath the counter and immediately hammers my mug, my beautiful mug I missed for five long days, down on it! Yes, there is a God!!
I should give the human race a little more credit. There's no reason anyone would want to steal somebody else's mug, so why would I believe it? But I nonetheless was surprised that someone would not want to keep something that's not theirs.
I've had the mug with me ever since. It's never going to leave my sight!
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