found drama

The whole gang is making an exit from the office — en masse, all at once, a big crowd of them wandering the labyrinthine halls. (Though somehow the office has no roof? or is already outside?) You find yourself smack in the middle of the throng, taking in the small talk, which mostly revolves around resolving who is driving and/or who is riding with whom. BL turns to you and asks (jokingly?) if you want to trade cars for the day. (“We’ll switch back when we leave from there.”) But he already has your keys. He borrowed them yesterday when he borrowed your car yesterday, and you can’t tell if he’s playing dumb or genuinely doesn’t remember. “There’s no way I have them–” (he insists) “–just run back and grab them. Meet us in the parking lot.” Do you jog back? Is it a trick on top of a trick? An annoyance wrapped up in an honest mistake? Through a window, you can see your car, but as you pat down your pockets–regardless of what he might otherwise be saying–you are certain that you do not have your own keys.

About Rob Friesel