This ridiculousness remained just between Jane and myself until 2005.
We reunited in Las Vegas with our other pals, Stacy, Schell, Ben and Mike. Since we were sharing a room it was difficult to conceal the whereabouts of the shirt, so I hid it deep under the top mattress. Surprisingly, housekeeping found it and hung it up in the closet and Jane discovered it while the rest of us were at the pool. She hid it under the wet bar and I found it while she was in the shower.
This is retarded.
As we were going to dinner one night, Jane pulled me aside. I had the red shirt in my purse at this point because there was just nowhere safe to hide it. She knew damn well I had it because she’d checked the wet bar to discover it was missing. We then decided to join forces and stick it to Stacy as she delighted in our ongoing nonsense. However, we didn’t take in to account that Stacy is an anal-retentive asshat and repacks her entire suitcase from start to finish before leaving the hotel.
She quickly discovered the shirt before we headed to the airport. The shirt ended up with our pal Mike, who promised to plant it in our friend Ben’s closet back in L.A., since he’d be house sitting for Ben in the next few weeks. Ben was still asleep and quite frankly, we were running out of options. Ben found the shirt hanging in his closet and was mortified. And pissed.
Ben indeed discovered the shirt and he later told me it was quite hilarious. He had arrived home after Mike had been watching over his residence and was hanging up his shirts and jackets from his trip. He immediately spotted the intruder and quietly muttered, “oh fuck me”.
In retaliation, Ben planted the shirt in Mike’s suitcase upon his next visit in the lining so as not to be detected. This was both good and bad. Good in that Mike totally DID NOT detect it. Bad, in that after almost a year, we weren’t sure what had happened to our beloved red shirt. We all just assumed Ben still had custody. I had neglected to even ask Ben where it had gone and when he told me that he eventually hid it in Mike’s luggage, I began to panic. Where the F was Mike? None of us had heard from him in ages and he was traveling constantly. SHIT.
When I finally tracked the shirt down, it was still undiscovered in Mike’s suitcase, in Vermont. Mike took the suitcase out of his garage and under my direction, found the shirt stuffed way, way into the lining. He erupted in laughter. He had the shirt for almost a year without anyone’s knowledge. Hilarious. I had Mike send it to me immediately because you see, our friend Jane had gotten married and was planning a wedding celebration in Denver. So we (me, Stacy and Schell) hatched a plan.