Moral Dilemma: Lost Shoes.

So, the other week when I was at school, I had to get so many books out of the library that I actually had to take my gym shoes out of my backpack and tie them to the side strap of my backpack, so that I could fit all the books in.

Then, after the gym and when I finally get home, I'm walking from where I park my bike to my apt., and all of a sudden I realize that my gym shoes aren't tied on to my backpack anymore, though I had registered them there and hanging down at some point on my ride home, as they dangled off my backpack and under my right handlebar.

It was already like 9:40pm at night and I had had a really long day and I would have had to bike back probably 10-25 minutes in one direction, to find where they dropped off, if they were still there.

"Ugh," I sighed at thinking that, and some artists standing outside smoking nearby asked me what was up.

I told them, and then also told them that these were gym shoes with just the right amount of support for my arches, and also that it was environmentally very wasteful to just not care about them like that, then I asked if I should retrace my steps.

"Yeah, I think you should," said this (white) (late 20s) (over emotive) (overweight) (female) artist.

So, I went home, dropped off my crap, and then slowly retraced my route by bike.

I expected that a couple places where I hit bumps or an incline they might have dropped off, but they weren't there... and then all of a sudden there my gym shoes were, in the middle of a quiet street where some pavement had been torn up and I had been forced to bike over some very bump-y bumps.

I got them, noted that they had been run over and were a bit dusty, and wrapped the laces around my hand and biked on home.

By then, it was almost like 10:30pm, but I decided that the artists should know.

So, I walked over to their gallery, and there they all were working on some installation behind the big plate glass window facing out front.

I tapped on the window gently, and as soon as 3 of the 5 there saw me they knew exactly what was up, and the (overweight) (over emotive) artist was like, "Uh, yeaaaahhhh!", as I held up my gym shoes in celebration.

"I thought you should have narrative closure," I said loudly and distinctly from outside, in response.