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So I worked in a telecommunications company for about a year before heading back to grad school.  Around month three my fiance, finishing up her art degree, had an assignment that required her to make a sculpture out of a large number of small, identical objects.  She chose keys.

We went to home depot, Walmart, automotive stores, and other places collecting the mis-cut keys from their machines.  She made her sculpture, and had about four pounds of keys leftover in a brown sack in my car.  One day, on my way In, I tossed the sack in the glove compartment, pulled out a hand-full of keys and dropped them in my pocket.

I live in Texas but was working with west coast clients, so my work schedule was later than the rest of the office.  In the hour after my immediate supervisor went home I walked into his cubicle and proceeded to hide about five keys in his office.   I put one under his keyboard, one under his decorative coffee mug that he never used, one on top of his overhead bin where he would never find it.

The next morning the key from under the keyboard was sitting on his desk in plan sight.  He was hooked.

Every evening I hid three more keys in his cubicle, always in places here he would be very unlikely to find them during his normal routine.  Under his desk gadgets, inside reference books he rarely used, taped to the back of his monitor.  Over time I ran out of good hiding places and began leaving them in places that he would find them.  Eventually I even went so far as to take down his wall decorations (fabric-lined cubicles in this office) and pin keys to the walls behind them and replace them.  I even left keys in the pockets of his suit jackets that he hung up, and once dropped a handful in an ostensibly sealed bag of promotional materials he was taking with him to a presentation across the country.

My last month there they were downsizing and I knew that my job was going.  I had already applied and been accepted to graduate school and was just wrapping up my projects (best separation from a company ever).  They were rearranging the office and he had to move.

As I plucked away at my spreadsheet I heard the words "what the hell?" whispered from the other side of my cubicle, followed by the loud metallic clanging of hand-fulls of keys hitting the bottom of the trash can.  I walked over, and there he was, red-faced, shoveling keys by the handful out drawers where he had left them for safekeeping.

I cracked up on the spot, and he looked at me, despair and betrayal in his eyes.

"Yeah, sorry about the keys.  I couldn't help myself"

"You did this?"

The relief was tangible.

"Wow, that's actually pretty funny."

I rolled with laughter for several minutes, the whole office joining in.  I picked up my things that evening and left for the last time.

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