"I threw everything in here when I changed dressers."
My brain, perhaps in denial, did not immediately recognize the item. With knitted brow, I took it from his hand and blinked at the curious leather strap and tarnished buckle. When I realized what it was moments later, I fell into a gut-wrenching fit of laughter. As I was dabbing at the resulting tears, the Goat explained to me that he often wore the wristband with his tan bell bottoms and a tight print Qiana disco shirt when he went to the bar at the local Holiday Inn with his associates for an evening out.
"So Starsky," I said, "Get laid alot?"
He then produced an Speidel I.D. bracelet engraved with ERIC in a triple-line engravers font. The item was slightly corroded despite Speidel's proud claim of RHODIUM ELECTROPLATE on the interior of the clasp.
"What was the purpose of this?" I said. "Have trouble remembering your name?"
"You were supposed to give it to your sweetie," he said.
"Seeing as you still have it at the ripe age of 52," I said, "I guess you didn't do so well in that department."
"I don't know about that," he said. "After all, who's got it right now?"
* * *