How to Worry Me

Be my wallet. As I open you to stuff in a few bills I received as change at lunch, blithely show me that my most-used credit card is not in its usual slot. Hesitatingly prove that you aren't hiding it in any of your other credit card slots, either. Show me that, no, you are not trying to perform an oh-so-funny disappearing credit card magic trick by continuing to not have the credit card regardless of how many times I open and close you. Leer at me as I call the last place I used the card (two nights ago!) only to find out that they don't have it either. Make me think of all the things someone who picked it up might have bought with it in the last 36 hours. Quietly chuckle at me as I put you back in my pocket and drive home to see if it is in my other pants, knowing full well that is not and that I will have to call and report it lost. Sit there smugly and quietly as I go through each and every pocket in the pants I was wearing the last time I used the credit card, failing to turn it up. Don't say a word as I sigh and start to head out the door back to work. Then -- and only then -- turn on the light bulb over my head, suggesting that I look in the pocket of the shirt I was wearing when I last used the card. Shruggingly accept the card as I slide it almost gleefully back into its normal slot.