About three weeks ago Kathleen began missing her prescription sunglasses, searching high and low, retracing her steps around the house and at various locations, repeatedly inquiring at numerous Lost and Found departments, sadly, all to no avail. She blamed herself for not putting finder's information in the case.
While getting her regular lenses replaced last week, she was asked if she'd like to buy a new pair of prescription sunglasses as well, as part of the package, which would have cost an additional $200. She said no, "I haven't given up hope." (The so-called "special deal" would expire in 30 days.) "I take such good care of them, I was really disappointed," she said.
Today, during a cleaning routine, lo and behold, way under the bed, in a little private stash, she discovered her sunglasses in its soft cloth case. There was an abundance of joy and exhultation.
Since the statute of limitations has run out on the crime, the miscreant was not to be punished, only shamed in the hopes that some public humiliation would help. We don't have a lot of tools here.
The first thing Kathleen did when she got her prized sunglasses back was to insert her name and phone number into the case.
Prudent, yes, but Stan is sure it would have made no difference.