There's an angry cow sitting on my apartment mate's computer keyboard. She requests assistance, and demands moral support. Because, this morning, I "thieved" from her. She had found my wallet, and needs the plastic rectangle within to purchase a ruby tiara. A nice one.
I have endeavored to explain several things to her.
ONE: it wasn't lost, you found it where I had put it last night before going to bed, you went searching for it, and irrespective of all that, it's still mine.
TWO: my credit limit is significantly below ruby tiara level.
THREE: You were holding it, I found it back.
FOUR: mine, bovine, MINE!
No matter. The cow is mad. Very. She feels sure that the other creatures, and my apartment mate, even ms. Bruin the head roomie, will all see things from her point of view and give me a chastising I shan't soon forget.
Which I doubt will happen.
Because several of the roomies insist my wallet is theirs. Particularly the plastic rectangle, which they need for shopping on the internet.
None of them are getting it.
Mine.
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LETTER BOX.
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