Lost and Found

My friend Bonnie's review of a play about a heist at the Art Institute reminds me of a story I love to tell.  Many years ago, I was friendly with a man who owned a warehouse on the near south side.  The business specialized in small storage for short periods of time.

One day a man came in with a package, left it for storage, took his claim ticket and left.  Over time, since no one picked it up, and since the package was sturdy and flat, someone put it next to the coffee machine.  It was a convenient surface for cups and sugar.

A few months later, the FBI arrived: "We need to search the warehouse."  They found what they were looking for:  the Cezanne painting stolen from the Art Institute.  It was undamaged except for a few coffee stains on the packaging.