Imagine a warehouse that holds over 200,000 items every year. That’s roughly the population of a small city—just a city of dropped gloves, abandoned laptops, and single earrings that will never see their partner again. They don’t just shrug and say “tough luck.” They catalogue everything, from the boring to the brazenly bizarre.
Want to know the most common item? Not keys. Not wallets. It’s umbrellas. About 30,000 umbrellas a year. Londoners seem to buy one, use it once in a drizzle, then immediately forget it exists. I’m convinced there’s a secret portal on every Tube seat that swallows brollies whole. The office also collects phones, bags, and—my personal favourite—half-read paperbacks.
