Lazy Shirt

I've been very lazy this week when it comes to getting dressed. It has been quite cool in Toronto this week (for the past couple of months, actually) and I've been wearing sweaters. At the end of the day, I should take my shirts off one at a time and place them neatly into my laundry basket, but instead I take the t-shirt, collared shirt, long sleeved sweater, and fleece off all at once. The advantage is that, next morning, I can just slide back into them in a similar one-shot deal.

It is important to overlook the grossness of wearing the same clothes for four days in a row. That's not something I'm proud of, but I'm also not too proud of the fact that I haven't really left the house in the past four days. I don't believe that the clothes were stinky. I'm still showering and wearing deodorant after all. Let's not go nuts here.

I decided last night to play free poker at a bar near my house. I went for a run, took out the recycling and yard waste, and then took a shower. I was running late so I jumped into my russian doll shirt pile. I walked to the bar and played. It was one of those days when every hand you fold hits, and every hand you play misses. I folded Q3 and the flop hits QTQ and the 3 hits on the turn, for example. Then I get eliminated with pocket Aces as the other guy hit a club on a four club board. I'm glad it was free.

Anyway, as I'm getting up to leave, I notice that there is a white t-shirt on the floor beside my chair. I didn't think much of it. I picked it up and commented, "Someone dropped a shirt on the floor." I thought that maybe someone won it in a raffle or something. Why hadn't I heard about any raffle? I put the shirt on the back of a chair and then headed home.

I got up this morning and deciding to fart around the house a little, I didn't have to worry about my clothes. I grabbed my shirts and started to crawl into them. No t-shirt. I looked around the floor and under the bed for it. Nothing.

That t-shirt that I found at the bar was mine. I must have missed it in my rush to not be late. It must have stayed tucked in during my walk to the bar and then when I took my sweater off while playing poker it was able to squeak free.

It's a little embarrassing knowing that the undershirt the I have worn every day since Monday is now at the bar. Did someone pick it up? Is it in the lost and found? Did it get thrown into the garbage? Will it be waiting for me when I go back next week? The biggest question, I think, is: Can I conceivably go back and ask for it?