I lost my best jacket.
Sadly, it wasn't torn away from me in some dramatic story, and I didn't give it to someone more deserving. I left it on a plane, because I'm an idiot.
I'm sure more exciting things have been left on planes, but I'm a Minnesotan, and keeping warm is the height of enchantment for me.
It was one of those awesome, high tech coats that smart people designed to keep me luxuriously comfortable no matter what shit Mother Nature threw, while being practically weightless. I think the lining was designed by NASA. Probably. Stylish? Meh...if you live in the North, sure.
My perfect little grey jacket. Gone. I filed a lost and found with the airline so maybe one day I'll get it back.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Just kidding. I know I'm never going to see that fucker again.
I went for a walk last night, and since "good jacket" is off being enjoyed by some other person, I grabbed one of my other jackets. I also grabbed other gloves, and another hat, since, oh, by the way, my *good* hat and gloves were in the pockets of the coat I lost.
I spent the next hour being cold and utterly miserable with the entirely inadequate jacket, hat and gloves. Why do I even own these things?
I know the best way to get my sweet little jacket to come home is to go out and get a new jacket. That trick works with men, doesn't it As soon as you find a new one, the old one is all, "Heeeey!"
Don't act like it isn't true. You know I'm right.
Of course my strategy includes spending a lot of money on the new jacket, thus making the return of the now-dowdy-by-comparison old jacket inevitable.
If you think this is the craziest rationalization for shopping you've ever heard, we need to hang out more.