This is why I’m not Sherlock Holmes.

I’ve eaten at a specific restaurant in our neighborhood at least 100 times through the years (literally), and have always wondered where the stairs to the upper level were. They mainly use it as a banquet space, so I have never had occasion to see it, and I had never seen the stairs.

Today, after leaving the restroom, I finally noticed the glass front door next to the ladies’ restroom, clearly marked “stairs,” with a staircase also clearly visible behind.

Mystery solved.

Considering that I’ve used that restroom 25 times at a bare minimum and never noticed the staircase until today, you can imagine that my powers of observation are spotty at best.

It reminded me of that time in college when my best friend dyed her hair a completely different color and it took me six weeks to notice, despite seeing her every day.

I’ll never be Sherlock, that’s for sure.

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