This afternoon’s massive thunderstorm caught me while I was out on my bike, so I ducked into a nearby Goodwill for shelter. My little brother (that is, younger & narrower) mentioned recently that he needed a tweed jacket (for what nefarious purposes I’m not certain) and in my idle browsing I found a handsome one made by Burberry. It appeared to be unworn—the pockets were still sewn shut. Once the storm let up I packed it into my waterproof pannier and set off, only to be met by another torrential downpour crossing the Manhattan bridge. I arrived home soaked, but the jacket was nice and dry. Upon further examination, it wasn’t completely unused—there were two slips of paper in the inner pocket with Arabic script on them, indecipherable to me except for the word TRANSTU. This turns out to be the Tunisian public transit system. So, some diminutive chap wore his spotless made-in-the-USA Burberry blazer on a trip to Tunisia, all the while with nowhere to stuff his wallet, and donated it the Goodwill immediately upon returning? Who the hell was this guy? Where else has that thing been? This is one reason a love buying from thrift stores, aside from the relatively prosaic fact that I bought my brother a Burberry blazer for $25.