Momnesia

Live Like You Were Dying

I walk in this morning and a co-worker (whom I shall not name) stops me.
"Hey, literary chick!" She holds out a gift bag left over from the Metro's Best party. "Do you know where...?"
I look at the name tag. Edward Cashin.
"The man is dead, [name withheld]!" I laugh.
"Then why did we make him something?!"
"I don't know. I'll get it to his wife," I reach for it and she snatches it back.
"What?"
"Someone stole Todd Schafer's," she says.
"So?"
"So, he's an actual advertiser."
"Uh! ASU's an advertiser!"
"ASU's not going to stop running ads with us because the dead guy didn't get something," she says.
"Oh, my god. His wife will appreciate it very much."
She hands it back to me. I peruse the remaining bags, trying to think of someone we can steal from to replace Todd Schafer's missing bag.
"Look, here..." I reach for a bag.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm helping try to figure out someone who doesn't need a bag."
She holds her hands out, stop-the-violence style.
"We're good. We got it."

Yeah, tell that to Ed Cashin. He only died right in the middle of voting and all, you goofballs.