Last night I arrived at the front door of my appartment. I opened my bag to get out my keys. No keys. My spare keys were inside my appartment. I removed every single item from my bag. Still no keys.
I went to a neighbour whom I had given the keys to my downstairs storage room because people were coming in to repair some damage done by a burglar last weekend. (I don't keep anything valuable in the storage room, so I was slightly disappointed the burglar didn't take anything. But he did kick in the door, hence the need for repairs. Boy, am I long-winded today).
The neighbour was home, and gave me my set of keys. I returned to my appartment building. It turned out that I now had the key to the building's front door, but not the key to my own appartment.
The final stop of the tram that I had taken in the morning is opposite from where I live. I went to the little building where the drivers have coffee to ask whether they had found my keys. They hadn't. One of the drivers went to phone their Amsterdam headquarters to ask whether they had found my keys. She asked me for a description. I told here that they had a black label attached to them saying "I am God" in white letters. "Are you God?" asked one of the drivers. "I don't think so", I said, "if I were I'd probably still have my keys". The keys weren't in Amsterdam. I said "thank you" and left.
I went on my way to the nearby police station. Maybe they could recommend a good burglar. Hopefully he wouldn't have to kick in my door.
Half way there, it dawned on me that while I had checked my bag, I hadn't actually checked the zippered outer compartment of my bag. And, of course, that's where my keys were.
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