A Pocket Within a Pocket

So when I got home last night, I ironed my shirt, picked out an appropriate tie, and put all my clothes and such so that when I got up at 0-dark hundred hours of the morning The Wife could go right back to sleep and not be disturbed by my antics. That worked, for the most part -- until it was time for me to leave.

The rental car, a Dodge Neon, came on a tiny key with a tiny fob. I had thought when I got home last night that, as part of my normal routine, I left my keys in their usual place on the wine console. Which I did -- my regular keys.

Now, to understand what happened next, you need to know that in some men's suits or good trousers, the right front pocket will sometimes have a "pocket within the pocket." The purpose of this little mini-pouch has never been clear to me. Maybe, Way Back When, it was supposed to be where your trolley fare was, or it was where you tied up the onion on your belt (which was the style of the day). But today, I can't see any practical use for this thing.

Obviously, what happened was the key to the Neon got stuck in the little mini-pocket, and remained here, hung upside down in my suit pants, all night. So this morning, I had to clunk around in my dress shoes and turn on the light in the bedroom to find it, after The Wife got up an hour earlier than she normally would have, to help me find the key. You try to be nice, but the universe gets in the way sometimes.

I bought her flowers on the way home tonight to make up for it.