Tripping the Synapses Fantastic

So yesterday was Tickday, or Wednesday to most people. It was the day we took the dogs over to the groomer for their tick bathes and had the exterminator over to fumigate the house, after which we went to lunch. Our restaurant of choice was Ferdos, which serves some pretty good Mediterranean style food. After finishing off my gyros platter and helping Mark eat his shish kabob while he went to the bathroom to return the tough piece of meat he was gagging on, I paid the bill with my debit card. The nice waitress returned with the receipt and my card, which I slipped back into my wallet. We had to stay away from our house for three hours while the fumes did their job on the ticks, so the rest of the afternoon was spent over at a friend's house chatting, and watching television. At four in the afternoon we drove over to the groomer's to pick up Chandler and Bette. Once again I opened my wallet to pay the bill.

            "Where the hell is my debit card?"

Mark looked at me with disgust, "Again? You do this all the time, usually you just forget your wallet altogether, so this is a new one."

            "Honestly, I definitely remember sticking that card back in my wallet."

So Mark paid for the dogs while I vigorously patted all my pockets, and opened and closed my wallet ten times looking for that card.

            "We have to go back to Ferdos."

            "I saw you with it just before you went to pee at the restaurant. Did you lose it in the bathroom there?" Mark asked.

            "No, why the hell would I have my debit card out in the bathroom?" I told him while quietly remembering The Bistro Bar back in the 1970's. So we went back to the restaurant. Sure enough, there were two forgotten credit cards waiting for their owners to come back for them. Neither one was mine.

            "Well goddamnit Mark, where the hell could I have lost that thing?"

In one final moment of exasperation, Mark told me to pull out my wallet again and show it to him. It was like a miracle, like some magic trick. I half expected a puff of smoke to go with the sudden appearance of my debit card back in my wallet exactly where I had put it. I fucking hate it when Mark is right.