On an otherwise awesome trip to Asheville, somebody jacked my favorite hat.
I wouldn’t even consider myself a hat guy, but this one fit me right – and the brim was bent just how I wanted it….
And now it’s gone.
Am I really grieving the loss of a hat?
…and it was almost like a signature or calling card.
I have many other caps – and some have emotional significance for me. I want to treasure a couple of them into my old age – like the Marine Dad cap my son gave me or the College of Charleston Dad cap from my daughter.
Why – oh why did I take it off when I was checking in at our hotel? Why didn’t I just leave the thing on instead of laying it on the front desk? Thing is, I wasn’t even gone ten minutes until I realized I had left it there and went down to check on it.
I asked – and the manager (I think) told me he hadn’t seen it and “maybe it’s in the car.” The guy who checked me in remained quiet.
My girlfriend thinks his answer was a little too quick.
But of course there’s no way to prove who took it – and it’s astonishing in this age of COVID-19 that anybody would be interested in somebody else’s hat.
Maybe somebody else took it while they were checking in.
This was one of my “overthinking” moments – creating a veritable game of Clue in my head, all the while knowing that I would never get it back.
The hat was old, but it was cool – but it was my hat. The sense of violation and loss about this was acute for a couple of days. Now, it just stings a little.
So long, my friend.