My very valued cigarette lighter went missing from my desk where I thought I'd left it. I looked in my bag, rummaged and rummaged. No lighter. Emptied bag's entire content. Still no lighter.
I ran to the security desk, and in the process of getting up and pushing against my chair, something heavy from my jacket pocket which was hanging on the back of my chair swung against my knee. I ignored it. I wanted security! I wanted my lighter back!
Once there, I frantically reported the case of the missing lighter. Also missing along with it was a packet of cigarettes which was also duly included in the report. In a place where people report lost mobiles, iPods, expensive cameras et al, I could see that the security guys didn't think much of my missing stuffs. I was also a little embarrassed so I told them that I didn't care about the cigarette packet but that the lighter was wanted back in all earnestness.
"Uh-huh." They grunted.
"It was a very expensive lighter." I added, hoping to earn some sympathy.
"And also holds a lot of sentimental value for me. So please, it's really important that I get that lighter back."
I gave up and dejectedly went back to my desk. I couldn't work. My mind was on my cigarette lighter. My poor baby! In some stranger's grubby paws. It was unthinkable! (Yep. Fiercely and sometimes even absurdly possessive about certain stuffs).
I moaned, I whined, I sighed and I fretted, finally causing the noble J to stand up and pick up the phone and bark at the security guys. I had a slight suspicion that he did it more out of concern for his own self (he and I sit in close proximity so he suffers most from all my sighs and moans and whines). But I was anyway happy to see someone else take up my cause so strongly and bravely.
"Have you done anything about her lost lighter? Have you searched? What have you done? The security cameras must have caught something. Check that out!" The noble knight barked.
Men always bark better. The security guys sent a couple of guys in to sniff around my desk, in my drawers, pulled and tugged at my phone lines. Threw my tissue boxes around. They knocked my stuffed Koala off its nail. They tapped at and skewed my Celtic cross. They knocked my pen stand over. And tripped around and over several times on my headphone wires.
Of course, I thought it absolutely ridiculous, but I held my peace. They were, after all, there to help me. And they're supposed to be the experts - the Holmes, and I, the mere Watson.
They came. They rummaged. They didn't find any lead. No suspects whatsoever. I half-expected them to ask me 'Do you have any enemies?' 'Do you have any idea why anyone would want to do this to you?' 'Do you think whoever took your lighter has malicious intent to cause you bodily harm?'
They didn't but left with a promise to do all they could to return my lighter to me. They were going to see if the security cameras had caught who so shameless swiped my precious one right off its perch.
Well, after that, I worked a bit. And as I got up for lunch, that thing that knocked against my knee, well, that knocked again. That was a small detail I should have paid more attention to sooner. I picked the jacket up and thrust my hands inside its pockets, determined to find out what it was that was so hell-bent on doing damage to my knees.
My hand touched something...
And looked extremely familiar.
Now I'm sitting here and praying those stupid cameras didn't catch me putting the lighter in there the night before.