I had rather left my heart in Tuscaloosa after Alabama’s win that inaugurated the Nick Saban era of Crimson Tide football.

My American Express card stayed instead. It left me somewhere between the table where Regina and I sat in a restaurant on The Strip and my wallet.

I didn’t miss it until Sunday when we went to lunch with friends after church.

It’s no fun losing an American Express card, even when the company puts the card on ice before a thief can find it and run up a tab.

The person at the restaurant who answered the phone Sunday afternoon said no card had been turned in, but she took my phone number just in case.

I had 24 hours to find my card or get a new one. That was another part of the problem.

Regina could use hers even though we share the account. You might say it was her get-even time.

I pay the bills and routinely look over charges to make sure they belong. Usually, they are predictable and for gasoline, dining, groceries and drugs, and for anticipated amounts.

Sometimes one or two charges pop up that need verifying so I ask if she spent $245 at Parisian on a certain date.

Her first reaction is I’m monitoring her spending. Her answer is always the same and in an on-guard tone:

“Why?”

Then I have to explain that I’m not questioning money she spent but only if she in fact spent it.

“Oh,” she replies, then verifies the purchases.

Having one American Express card between us with her its keeper reverses things.

I’ve asked to borrow her card for gasoline, to buy supplies at The Home Depot and for a few other things.

“And what do you need it for?” she asks, with a devilish grin.

My replacement is due within days, and I can’t wait.

Tom Wright is executive editor.

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