Scene: A tired woman – me – has just finished showing her soon-to-be-former landlord around an empty and freshly cleaned apartment. The inspection has lasted a solid half hour but miraculously, he has found nothing wrong. The end is in sight.
I hand him the keys.
Him: “Can you please remind me which key is which?”
Me: “Of course!”
(My brain: please oh please give me back my security deposit and let me go home soon)
Him: “What is this key?”
Me: “That is the key to the storage unit.”
Him: “The key to the storage unit?”
Me: “Yep, to the storage unit.”
Him: “Did I give you this key?”
Me: “Yes, you did.”
Him (slightly accusingly): “You made a copy!”
Me (confused): “No, no copies, that is the original.”
Him: “Then which is the copy?”
Me: “There are no copies, Landlord. There is only the original key you gave us.”
Him: “Ah, I see. And this is the storage unit key I gave you?”
Him: “This key?”
Him: “And you did not make a copy? This is the key I gave you?”
Me (trying to conceal my impatience): “Yes.”
Him: “Ah, OK. And what does this next key do?”
There were six keys on that key ring, FYI. But the story has a happy ending: we got our security deposit back and we’re in our new apartment!