Here’s a story that you were thinking of “writing up” but never did: A guy sees his wife go off to the supermarket and realizes that he had left something off the grocery list. So he texts her: “We’re in desperate need of potatoes.”
Oddly, his wife doesn’t text back. In fact, she returns home with whole bean coffee, ground turkey, Brussel sprouts, rye bread, saffron, pickled artichokes, pints of cream and so forth, but swears up and down that she never had seen the potato desperation email.
Late that night the doorbell rings, and after some comical robe-fumbling and searching for spectacles, our hero (loose interpretation) answers the door to find an old friend – well, not really a “friend” so much as this annoying acquaintance whom our hero had gotten to know a little and came to dislike – carrying 20 pounds of potatoes. “You said it was desperate!”
“I was trying to send that text to my wife. I guess I texted you by mistake.”
But now it’s too late and the guy he hasn’t seen in five years – armed with potatoes – is looking to have the friendship rekindled.
Why didn’t you ever write that story up?