Message at the tailor's

I wanted to go to yoga class tonight. Chad left to run errands. Chad left with both sets of keys. I called his cell phone. I left a message. I called his cell phone again. I left another message.

Alright. Just in case it wasn't clear, it's Thursday night, I wanted to go to yoga across town, and you have my keys!

I called the tailor's. Chad had on his to-do list: bring pants in to get hemmed.

"Excuse me, but is there a gentleman in there to get his pants hemmed? I'm looking for my husband, and he was supposed to stop by your business tonight."

So, when Chad got to the tailor's a little while later, the person in the store asked him (in a very strong accent): Are you supposed to call your wife?

Chad, not quite knowing what this person's talking about, says: ...no. I don't think so.

The person gets her phone: Is this your number?

Chad: ...uh...yeah.

He calls home. No answer. He calls my cell. No answer. He calls home again. See, by this time, I'd given up trying to find a spare set of keys, had written a scathing note (What part of leave my keys do you not understand? Leave? My? Keys?), and had gone for a walk.

Chad leaves the tailor's, not quite knowing what to make of the situation. He takes out a set of keys. Realizes he's got my keys. Thinks to himself, well, I guess I left my set of keys for Danielle. Checks his other pocket. Uh oh.

I get home, and my scathing note is taped to the door, along with a Bart Simpson-esque note that Chad had written.

I will never leave the house with two sets of keys.
I will never leave the house with two sets of keys.
I will never leave the house with two sets of keys.

But, I suppose if he never leaves the house with two sets of keys again, then he'll never have the opportunity to have a conversation with a telepathic tailor, will he?