Lost And Found
“What do you mean, you lost them? How the fuck do you lose a bag with 40 dildos in it?”
“I didn’t lose it, somebody took it. Or, er, switched it. There’s a difference, Sam. I told you we should put them in a duffle with a zipper, but no; you had to use the damned treehugger grocery bag.”
“Where were you when you lost them?”
“I didn’t….whatever. Outside the supermarket.”
“The supermarket that uses the light blue ‘don’t forget your reusable grocery bag’ bags?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Isn’t that one of those bags in your hand? Are you sure they’re not in there?
“Let’s see. I’ll just check for the fiftieth time. No, I’m pretty sure this is four cans of creamed corn, two boxes of macaroni and cheese and a roll of paper towels, not forty giant dildos of varying colors.”
“Shit. It took us weeks to collect those and we still don’t know which ones are cursed.”
Dean waggles his eyebrows. “Yeah, still got a few to try out, huh Sam?”
“Shut up.”
“Here, I made a flyer. I already put one up outside the grocery store and a few other places around town.”
Sam just stares in disbelief. “This is my phone number. And you’re offering a reward? And what the hell is up with the picture? Did you think people wouldn’t know what a blue canvas tote full of dildos would look like? Also, who the hell is Dave?”
“Since it’s your phone number, apparently you are.” Dean figures he’ll skip the rest of the questions since Sam’s being such a bitch about it all.
“You lost the damned things!”
“Yeah well, you look more like a Dave.”
Sam glares at Dean and grabs his phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“Shut up, Dean. No, no not you. Is this the Food Town on Stovepipe Road? It is? Good. Um, have you had anything strange turned in at your lost and found today? You have. Really. Forty? Yeah, that is kind of a lot, I know. Yeah. Yeah. My idiot brother switched bags with one of your shoppers. You know, I really have no idea why he put them down in the parking lot. I did mention the idiot part, didn’t I? You’ve got one too? Yeah, it really is, isn’t it? Thanks so much, he’ll be down to give that nice lady back her food and pick them up. Okay, yes goodbye.” Sam ends the call and turns to his brother. “Go. Get. Them.”
“You want me to walk into a supermarket and pick up forty dildos from the lost and found? Come on, Sam. Can’t we just break in after hours tonight and get them then?”
“No. We can’t. Go.”
Dean turns on his heel and heads out the door.
“And don’t pay someone to go in and get them for you,” Sam yells after him. “We need to make sure they’re all there before you leave the store.” Sam’s phone begins to ring as the door closes behind Dean and his voice can be heard from the parking lot. “No, this isn’t Dave. You have the wrong number.” Sam sticks his head out the door and hollers, “And take down the god-damned fliers!”
Dean works plans over on the way to the store. He finally decides that law enforcement is the way to go. Less embarrassing, greater chance that no one will have screwed around with the dildos. So to speak. Then he remembers Sam’s phone call. He’s the idiot brother not the cool F.B.I. agent. Damn it. Brazening it out it is then.
Dean takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders before starting into the store. He walks casually toward the help desk, just another shopper with something to exchange. It just feels like every eye in the place is on him, no one’s really paying him any mind. If he keeps telling himself that, he might actually believe it. After about a hundred years he reaches the desk and puts his bag of groceries on top of it.
“Can I help you?” A woman of about fifty asks from down the way a little.
“Um…yes. I think I switched bags with someone in the parking lot and I’d like to switch back, please.”
“What was in the bag you lost, sir?” The woman’s lips are twitching and Dean casts a look over his shoulder to see all the cashiers looking in his direction.
“I think you know what was in the bag,” Dean grits. “Can you just give it to me so I can get out of here?”
“I’m sorry, but we have to verify that you are the person who actually lost the bag. I mean, you don’t look like an idiot.” She’s almost laughing now and Dean resists the urge to shoot her.
“Okay,” he says, leaning on the counter and lowering his voice, “it was a blue tote bag with, um, a variety of, um, sex aids in it.”
“Can you be a little more specific, sir?”
“You want specific? You got it, lady. I lost a bag with forty large dildos in it of varying colors. Specific enough for you?”
“The bag that’s depicted so well on the flier outside the front door?” Dean nods jerkily. “I think that will be sufficient, sir.” She leans forward and presses the button on the intercom. “MOD to the front. The customer who left the bag of fake penises in the parking lot has come to collect them.”
Dean crinkles his eyes at the woman behind the desk and says, “Thanks for that,” then drops his head on the counter as the buzz at the front end of the store erupts into laughter. He lifts it only when a hand touches his arm.
“Here you go, sir.” The manager of the day is a short, bespectacled man who’s giving Dean a look that’s a little too friendly for his liking. Dean takes the proffered bag and sorts through it to make sure everything is there. “And thank you for shopping at Food Town. Come back and see us soon.”
“Oh, sure thing,” Dean mutters as he exits the store at a pace that’s definitely short of a dead run. “I’ll be back exactly never.”
Dean stops outside the door and reaches up for the flier hanging on the pole outside. He pulls a pen out of his pocket and scratches out Dave, writing Sam in instead. What the hell, Sam deserves it for making him go to the store instead of just breaking in. It’s time Sam changed his number anyway.
Dean tosses the bag onto the front seat and heads out of town. To hell with Sam and his research, Dean sees a big fire in his immediate future. These dicks are going down.