In The Closet
My jacket was missing.I keep a jacket in the house because I’m usually cold. Gloria likes it cooler than I do, and it’s easier for me to put on a jacket than it is for Gloria to strip and parade around the house in the nude, although I’ve certainly tried to advance the argument.
“Hey, have you seen my jacket?” I asked. In response, I got The Look™. “Don’t tell me you hung it in the coat closet,” I said.
“That would be where it goes, yes,” she replied.
“If you hang my jacket in the coat closet, I’ll never find it. You might as well bury it six feet deep in the backyard,” I said. “No difference.”
“I don’t have to dig the hole,” she said.
“Okay, there’s one difference. But I can’t even accept the existence of a closet that’s made just for coats. You could smuggle fifty pounds of heroin a week through this house, and as long as the mule hid in the coat closet, I’d never know.”
"I'll keep that in mind," she said.
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