SEEMS LIKE OLD TIMES

So, Friday night, besides the sampled beauty creme, I found a bag
on the floor in the cafe shortly before midnight. I'd seen it there
earlier in the night around 8pm, but customers often leave things
by their chair while they go get some coffee at the counter, so I
didn't bother with it. Of course, after closing, that's a different
matter. It held a pound of turkey roast, a wedge of some god awful
looking cheese, and a steak. I showed it to T. the cafe manager, asked
if we should save it in the fridge out back, but after thinking about it,
I threw the bag out. With my luck, it might have been a bio terrorist
attempt to poison us all with rotten cheese. I joked with C. after that
any second some sweet old lady would pound on the door looking for
her food and I'd just dumped it like an idiot.

Cut to @9:30am Saturday morning:

The phone rings. and the answering machine starts up before I'm
fully awake. It's the manager, TBWMBO. "Bill...I'm sorry to wake you
but T. says you might know where a customer's bag of groceries
from last night went?"
ME: (after befuddled swipe and picking up of phone off floor): "Umm..
I threw that out..."
TBWMBO: "I thought you might have, but T. wasn't sure, and the
man's a Russian with a bad accent who wanted to know."
ME:(after musing why Boris Badinov was at the store) "umm...ok."

I eventually went back to sleep for another hour or so after wondering
if Russians with good accents are not as forgetful as bad accented
Russians.