Your key, sir

“What’s with all the keys?”

A basket a filled with hotel keys sat singly atop his dresser like trophies on display.

“That’s not all of them,” he said, “Just ones from this month.”

Sticking a finger in the pile, I flipped the fobs over to read where he had spent the night.

“Do you travel a lot for your work?” I picked up a tab engraved with a sunburst.

“None are job-related,” he said, removing his jacket and tie.

“What are they then?”

He had the temerity to blush.

“One-night stands.”

“What souvenirs do you save from home?”

“Left ears.”