Speaking of flatmates & losers....

I had another flatmate who used to lose things. In fact, she married a schoolmate of mine, and they could both have lost for New Zealand. If losing things was a sport.

But, what shall we call her... Trudi... used to bike down to her work from home, chain the bike up outside, work all day (or evening, it was a hotel), get a taxi home, have dinner, sleep, get up to bike to work...

You get the drift. This happened more than once. The bike was always gone from where it had been chained up.

She'd lose purses, coats, umbrellas, anything that wasn't physically attached to her.

Trudi once asked if she could borrow my umbrella to get to work. I said "no, you'll lose it". She argued. She wheedled. I gave in. She came home & I asked "Where is my umbrella?" She'd lost it.

In fact, she'd lost it just down the road on her way to work, popped into a dairy, let go of the umbrella for a moment... and walked on to work without it.

Later, she & my schoolmate moved to a small town. He was a keen diver. He'd go diving, come home, unload the car, put his tanks & gear in the driveway out front of the car, go inside... next time he was going diving, he'd wonder where his tanks & gear had got to.

This happened more than once. His insurance company stopped insuring his gear.

But the crowning moment... Trudi took their very young son with her to a netball game. She left the boy with friends & went off to play a blinding game. They won! Afterwards, she got home, announced her triumph to her husband, who asked "Where's the baby?"

At least they got him back fairly quickly.