First Place They'll Look

My friend Beth and I invented a goofy game called, "That's the First Place They'll Look."

It started when she was getting ice cubes from my freezer and found fifty bucks under the ice tray. "That's where you keep your emergency money?  That's the first place they'll look!" she laughed. It evolved into a game. One of us would suggest a place in the house to hide valuables or emergency cash, and the other one would chant, "That's the first place they'll look!"

By the time the ice cubes and, of course, the corresponding drinks ran out (because the game is way more fun with alcohol) we had a wild list of  'first places' for our imaginary robber to look; under area rugs, inside books, under the dirty clothes, in the radio's battery compartment, zipped into the couch cushion upholstery, and stuffed into the drape hem.

After we recovered from our hangovers, some things occurred to Beth and me:

1. Never hide anything when you are drunk.
2. Even sober, we'd forget where we hid something if we got too creative.
3. People donate things, wash things, toss things, and loan things.
4. If the house was on fire, could we get to the valuables in time to save them?
5. Robbers might steal whatever you've hidden the valuables in. The radio? A knick-knack on the mantle? Anything in the medicine cabinet?

Then the game evolved into "Lost or Stolen." It's kind of like "Rock/Paper/Scissors" except more drinking is necessary to understand the rules. In the evolved game, one of us thinks of a hiding place as the other chooses Lost/Stolen.

Beth would write down either "lost" or "stolen" as I wrote down a hiding place. For example, I wrote "old robe pocket in guest closet." If Beth wrote "stolen" I win...old robes are not a high priority for thieves. If she wrote "lost" she wins, because eventually that cash would be forgotten and lost with the robe...someday tossed, donated, cleaned, or (God forbid) destroyed in a fire or flood.

Years have passed since we played that little game.  I live half a country away from my old friend.  Someday I'll email her to tell her the news that I finally found a totally foolproof hiding place.  It's called "noplace."  Now that I'm unemployed there is no emergency money.

Time to stop writing. I have to go hide a house key in the yard so I won't get locked out again next time I go out job-hunting. I wonder what's the last place they'd think of looking?