Many moons (years) ago I spent two solid days working on a painting for my then boyfriend, The Pilot. It was a huge, 3.5 X 5 canvas with tons of swirls, colors, and other intriguing things. After a laborious completion I said tongue and cheekily, “If we ever break up I’m taking this back!!” He reluctantly agreed.

Well we did break up about 4 months later and I forgot about the promise until I forgot about him–or so I thought. When the fundraiser ball & action I participated in rolled around, I thought getting that painting back and raffling it off would be a great way to fulfill the promise we made and raise some money for a good cause. I had heard through the grape vine that he had no clue what to do with the painting anyway (i.e. “What do I tell my next girlfriend? My ex made this?) So, I thought I’d do him a favor and take the painting off his hands. When I inquired about it through the grape vine, Pilot confirmed it was ok to come over and get it whenever.

Well I had hemmed and hawed about the right time to get it back. Since he lived with a friend of mine, I would wait until he was out of town and just pick it up when the roommate was home. I would call the roommate here and there and wait for a window of opportunity when the Pilot was tooling around thousands of feet up in the air.

After a stressful day of work my buddies and I went straight for the margaritas. I went straight for 4 and decided it was then the perfect time to call Pilot’s roommate and pick up my painting. Only until I stumbled out into the blizzard cold did I realize how drunk I was. Nonetheless, I was on a mission and on my way to Pilot’s house.

When I got to his place, J greeted me at the door. Having seen me 3-sheets multiple times before, he was unfazed. I stumbled around with a sinking, weird feeling–first time I’d ever been back in that place since the royal dumping. Seeing his shoes jolted me.

I saw the painting and swayed as I dismantled it from the wall. I also then noticed a few other things…he had kept all the travel trinkets I had ever given him in the same spots on the fireplace mantle (wasn’t he dating someone else? He shouldn’t have those up.) I asked J what else he still had around and he shrugged. I checked around. Pilot still had all the magnets I had given him on the fridge. And, from a preschool class visit I orchestrated, “Thanks for coming Pilot!” pictures adorned his wall.

I then made the unequivocal decision that he should not have these things, these memorabilia’s of me.

With that, I proceeded to stuff my backpack full of wooden Russian trinkets, a moose statue, preschool class pictures, magnets, and any other lingering token of myself in his apartment. With my backpack full J looked at me perplexed. I declared I was, “Helping Pilot…he shouldn’t have these things around.” J just shrugged and said, “Ok”—nothing fazes the guy.

I scooped up the painting and made my way out the door–backpack full of trinkets and stomach full of pride. The winds had picked up, sleet filled the street, and snow swirled around my dizzy head. It’d be a tough walk home but I was invincible, I was drunk.

Somehow I remember crossing a street, honking, a dumpster, and waking up just a few hours later tp go to work at 7am. Pain and that “day after sinking feeling” greeted me. I couldn’t quite remember the details of the evening until I saw my backpack and preschoole drawings strewn about…it all starting coming back piece by piece. Had I REALLY done this?! Yes, yes I had.

I remembered my mission: the painting. I scanned the room. No painting.

Looked in the other room. No painting.

That’s it. I only have a two room studio.

I looked outside my apartment. Nothing.

Where was the painting?

I had to get ready for work–quickly. As I made it out the door I realized…

I had somehow managed to “lose” the gigantic painting on the way home last night.

I pieced the evening together for my work friends. They were amused, stunned, humored, but not surprised. Just another typical night in the life of single NK…

My BFF told me I needed to apologize to Pilot. I hadn’t done a good thing. I knew she was right, so I would start to remedy the situation then and there. An email would do.

“Dear Pilot,

I am sorry that I went over to your house and took a few things that I interpreted were…mine. If it helps to understand, I did end up losing, yes losing, the painting on the way home. I am very sorry that I invaded your space and I promise to never drink profusely and ransack your house again. If you want any of your things back, please let me know and I can drop them off.

Regards,
NK

*ok the email was a little more eloquent than that, but you get the idea.

Pilot replied a few days later. my heart sunk when I saw his name in my inbox.

“Hey NK,

No problem… I think we both know I’ve done some stupid things under the influence too. If you could just please drop off the preschool pics in my mailbox, I really liked them.

Pilot”

Whew. Once again, I had managed to rise from the flames without the influence of law enforcement.

The problem of the painting lingered.

Days went by, I retraced my steps, searched the streets, building hallways, dumpsters and came up with nothin. I remember fumbling with it as I left Pilot and J’s house. Did I set it down to pee by a dumpster? (I have been known to urinate in public on several occasions when drunk and otherwise…) Did I THROW it in a dumpster? WTF?!??!!

In a last ditch effort I posed a note in my building above the mailboxes:

Hello neighbors–

I seemed to have misplaced a large, 3X5, colorful canvas painting. If you do come across it outside, in the hallway, or even in a nearby dumpster can you please retrieve it and place it outside 4Q’s door?

No questions asked. Thank you!

The next day there was a 3X5, colorful canvas painting outside my door and it was mine.

No note, no explanation, no questions. Just the painting, unscathed.

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The painting sold for 300 bucks at the ball and aution. My antics? Priceless.