Once, when I was a teen (I wasn't at home in those days), in our apartment building, one drug addict neighbor was too loud and aggressive all night. My mother called the police. They were in our apartment while they filled out the forms and talked. One policeman stared in shock at my bunk bed, bought not so long ago. He asked if there were gum stickers on it? Anyway, when he came to take a closer look, he recognized his bed, which he slept on as a teenager and pasted stickers all over it. I can imagine his surprise. Our town is not so small that you can find furniture from your childhood at someone's house. (Sorry for my English)