another tale from the road

The place: Vancouver. Just to refresh your memory, we had blown a tire on our drive there from Seattle. So our morning was going pretty well. We spent a couple of hours wandering Granville Market and eating a bunch of food (like that's a surprise), then unfortunately had to leave when our parking meter ran out. We were walking back to the parking garage and neither of us could find the car keys. This had become kind of a running joke by then, or if not a joke then just a thing, that neither of us ever thought we had the car keys but that the other person had them. So I said I didn't have them, Alfred checked his pockets but didn't have them, so I started checking my purse. Couldn't find them. Checked my pockets. Not there. Alfred checked again. Totally not in his pockets. By this time we were back at the car, so I started searching through my purse again. The purse I had on the trip was pretty tiny, so it's not like there was a lot to look through, but still. Not there. Somehow, maybe in setting my purse on top of the car to look through it again, I noticed the keys: right on the roof of the car, where I had apparently left them when we parked. It's a good thing Canadians are honest (or just unobservant). Also, just as a side note, Vancouver taught me that I don't hate Canada. Just Ontario.