He ripped it up in a silent rage.

Some years ago, my dear friend Matthew and I attended double-bill play at the University of New Brunswick. In my memory, the first play was "Doc", thus making this was the same night in which we saw the guy playing Doc's penis by accident on stage. Good times. 

Matthew had a bad habit at the time of leaving his wallet places. Even though I am very forgetful (I left my own wallet at Pizza Twice the other night and made Ben call them to see if it was there), I often feel the need to teach people a lesson about leaving expensive things laying around. One time for example in high school, I convinced friends of mine that they had lost my video camera to prove a point about leaving theft-friendly items unattended in insecure places. They were terrified and I kept a straight face the whole time. 

The night of the play, Matthew got up during intermission, and left his wallet on his seat. I saw it, and felt the appropriate thing to do would be to hold onto it for him in my purse. Without telling him. Partly to assure him that he hadn't actually been robbed, and partly as a sick, sick joke, I removed his library card and placed it on the now empty chair. 

At this point, I got up and joined my companion in the lobby. We only returned to the theatre at the very end of intermission, which is when Matthew noticed the purple and white plastic card placed on his seat. "What's that doing there?"

It took a moment to sink in. There was a single card, yes, but no wallet. He checked his pockets. The lights were dimming, "where's my wallet?"

"What?" I asked, feigning confusion. 

"My wallet is gone!"

"The show is starting, sit down."

Matthew sat. He pawed through every pocket he owned, then whispered sharply in my ear, "My wallet is missing. I only have my library card."

I appeared shocked, confused, concerned. But the show was starting up again, we were in darkness and some student actors demanded our attention. 

Matthew held his library card in his hands. He was shaking. I began to feel perhaps I had made a grave mistake. 

As the play continued, I looked down to Matthew's lap - his hands were white as they twisted the plastic card over itself. His face pointed toward the stage, but I feel as though little of the play made an impact. He was incensed at the very world itself for this injustice - his wallet was gone, and all he was left with was this library card. 

He tore the weakened card in half.  I tried to suppress a nervous laughter. The card was destroyed. He ripped it up in a silent rage. 

The play ended. The cast bowed. The lights came up and we in the audience went to put on our coats.

I reached in my purse and casually handed Matthew his wallet. 

Matthew would like to add: "That was the worst!!!! I was soooo mad! I remember being so pissed that someone would take my wallet and leave the most useless card of them all. It was torture. And it never even crossed my mind that it could have been you.*"

Thank-you, and goodnight.

*Mission accomplished.