In which I accidentally commit a major theft

This morning I was dozing in bed, in denial about the start of another day, when Katie returned from an early breakfast with symptoms of food poisoning.

"Heidi? I just came back from the restaurant next door and I feel like I've got food poisoning, could you do  me a favor?" she asked.

"Huh? Wha? What's going on...?" I mumbled incoherently.

"I feel like I've got food poisoning and I need you to do me a favor."

"Oh no! sure, what do you need?"

Katie managed to explain that she had been eating at the restaurant next to the dorm when she suddenly felt very sick. she had slapped some money on the counter and hurried back to the dorm as fast as possible and now she needed me to fill up a couple of her water bottles and retrieve her new motorbike from outside the restaurant. I quickly performed the first task and then showered and got dressed before heading next door fetch Katie's bike. Katie had just purchased the bike, a red Honda Dream, the morning before. It was supposed to be in the alley next to the restaurant. I turned the corner and, sure enough, there was Katie's bike parked next to the restaurant. I put in the keys to unlock it and then, as it's a bit more complicated to start than what I'm used to, I pushed it back to the nursing dorm and parked it next to my bike.

After this I went for a late-morning walk to Bake'N"Bite for a nice sunday brunch. I took my time eating and then moseyed back to the dorm, not looking forward to all the prep I had to do for this week's lessons. Katie seemed a lot better and I told her where her bike was and that I needed to go to the library for a little while. I grabbed my things and drove to the main campus, did some work, checked out a book I needed and then came back to put the finishing touches on this week's lesson plan.

I had just entered my room when the phone rang. It was one of the house mothers. It was difficult to understand what she needed, but I made out that she had a message for me from security and it had to do with a bike. I had accidentally left my bike in the no-overnight-parking zone not too long ago and thought I was in for a lecture. Finally she made it clear that security wanted me to come downstairs so they could speak with me. Uncertain as to what this was all about, I went and found that a handful of people were circled around my bike in the dorm parking area. One of the students was there and started asking me questions in broken English. All I could figure out was she wanted to know why I had a red bike now. I explained that it belonged to my friend Katie, and why I had come to get it. I wondered what the problem was. They kept saying the word "restaurant" and indicating the bike. Yes, I had gotten it from the restaurant because Katie had left it there. What was the deal? Then, somehow, either because someone found the right word or because I recognized one of the restaurant employees standing in the circle of people, I realized the mortifying truth. I had taken the wrong motorbike.

A few moments of me covering my face, saying "oh my gosh," and apologizing repeatedly in Thai and in English followed while everyone else began to laugh. They wanted to know where the keys were because I had locked it. Well, Katie was no longer in the dorm but I told them I would go call her and fled the scene. I contacted Katie and found out she was at Esther's, but by the time I returned they must have brought their own keys because they had moved the bike. One of the house mothers insisted on taking me to the restaurant where we found Katie's bike, parked much further up the alley. I was able to prove that the two bikes were the same color and model. Then I went back and got my own bike and picked up Katie. We had a good laugh about it and I'm sure it's only a matter of time before the story gets around to the rest of the dorm staff and all of my coworkers.

I mean, on the one hand it's quite a good thing that it was one of the employees' bikes. They at least knew who I was and where to find me. On the other hand, I may never be able to eat at that restaurant again. Or at least not for a week.