He comes in to my apartment for dinner carrying one green, woman’s sock (not the sock of a green woman, you understand. The sock itself is green. Whatever.).
M: Oh, I found your sock (presents sock).
Les: Thanks, except that isn’t my sock.
M: What? Sure it is.
Les: No, I’ve got an inventory of my socks in my head, and that’s not one of them.
M: But. Yeah, I really think it is.
Les: I can not overemphasize how certain I am that it’s not my sock.
M: Well who else’s could it be?
Les: It must belong to your other girlfriend.
M: ?
Les: I have to say that at least I’m happy you’re giving me her sock instead of you giving away MY sock to HER.
M: Come on. Really this isn’t your sock?
Les: Really.
-An hour or so later-
M: Are you messing with me? That IS your sock, right?
Les: No. And I have to tell you: if it’s cold enough outside for me to have to wear socks to your house, you can be sure that I’ll be wearing both socks when I leave.
M: Yeah. That does sound like you.
As of today, the sock mystery has not been solved. If you have any information about the owner of the sock, please call 1-800-555-SOCK. Operators are standing by.
3 comments:
I have a pair of your socks that you lent me once. Maybe it's mine. Send me a picture.
Any chance that he (or a roommate) sends his laundry out to be washed and folded? Those places sometimes return random pieces of clothing.
On the very first day of living in a brand new apartment together, I found a pair of woman's underware that weren't mine. After a small heart attack (how could you not have a tiny heart attack?!), we quickly realized that the underware must have belong to the previous tennent. So, you just never know, is all I'm saying.
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