I left my wedding ring in a cab.

It wasn’t even my wedding night, just a few beers with the boys.

I have this terrible habit of fiddling with my ring. If I’m standing on a boat I wonder, what would happen if it fell in there? On decks I often look at gaps between the planks and think the same.

This particular night my mates and I were in a Corporate Cab in Auckland driven by Ali. Around midnight we arrived at my house, during which time I’d fiddled once again and my ring sprung into the air and rolled somewhere.

At the time I laughed. But secretly I was thinking, my ring is not on my finger and my other fingers can’t locate it.¬†Moments later four grown men lifted seats and shone iPhone torches. Brown, you dick. How could did you do that?

Yes, yes, I know.

I figured the ring wasn’t at the bottom the ocean or beneath a deck, so waved the boys on. My fate now lay with Ali and a mobile number on a business card.

I got up at 7am. Ali got up at 4pm. Long day.

Text – 4.14pm: Wat sort of ring is it?

I described it.

Text 4.21pm: Yes mate, I got it

The next day Ali from Corporate Cabs dropped the ring off to my house free of charge.

Text: It’s al gud u don’t need to pay.