I was riding on the bus (this was not recently - for better or worse it's been a while since I've taken the bus). Sitting across from me was an elderly man whose left foot had been amputated just above the ankle. On his right foot was, not surprisingly, a shoe. In his lap was, surprisingly, the other shoe.
This situation puzzled me. I pondered it for the entire twenty minutes I sat across from him. What was he doing? Where was he going? Was he disoriented? Was he keeping it as a memento?
Finally we reached his stop. He lopsidedly hobbled off the bus, still holding the spare shoe, crossed a parking lot, and entered... a prosthetics store.*
Note: I recalled this story after stumbling upon this much more disturbing story about a missing foot.
* Somehow "prosthetics store" doesn't sound quite right. What do you call it? "Prosthetics clinic"? "Prosthetics depot"? But it really was a store, no window displays or anything, but definitely a private, commercial enterprise.