Missing Woman Found Living in Local Bed Bath & Beyond


By Samantha Wassel of Between the Monkey Bars

A wife and mother of three who was reported missing by her family nearly a month ago was found living in a nearby Bed Bath & Beyond yesterday morning.

Maya Whitsend, age 36, was discovered shortly after a BB&B employee noticed a Keurig coffee maker plugged into one of the outlets in the women’s restroom during a routine check.

“I went in there to replace a few toilet paper rolls, and there it was, sitting in the middle of the floor. Almost tripped over the cord on my way to the stalls,” said Lynn N. Stacker, a morning shift worker at the popular retail store. “It was still warm, and I detected an unusual—albeit pleasant—hint of hazelnut in the air. I mean, Green Mountain does put out a wicked hazelnut blend. One of our best sellers. You want a coupon? I can give you a coupon. I’ve got loads of them. One of the perks of working here.”

Our reporters assured Stacker that they were already on BB&B’s mailing list.

“How about your email? Do we have your email?”

One of our tech experts told Stacker that last she checked, BB&B had everyone’s email addresses, including those of puppies, the unborn, and life-size Spock cardboard cutouts cohabiting with middle-aged men in their mothers’ basements.

“Right, so after I found the Keurig, things got really weird,” Stacker continued. “Like, I found a memory foam bath mat under the sink. And when I emptied the feminine hygiene waste container in one of the stalls, it was stuffed with used K-Cups. I was just like, what the bloody hell is going on here?

“Actually, I was more like, ‘Where the bloody hell is the usual bloody hell I find in this little metal thing?’”

Stacker immediately informed her manager, who promptly closed the store and contacted the local police.

“It was pretty clear we had a squatter,” said Phil Okais, manager of the store for the past 16 years. “And I didn’t know how dangerous the situation was. The world is full of crazies, and we’ve got loads of knife sets in here. Quality knife sets. Seriously, you could toss a pineapple five feet in the air, and a single stroke from one of our Cuisinarts would slice that sucker right in half. Are you happy with your current knife set? How long does it take you to carve up a steak? We’re running a 25% off sale on all our cutlery right now.”

After thirty minutes of searching, police found Whitsend asleep in a queen-sized display bed, one arm draped across a nearby sign reading, “Please do not sit on the furniture.” Medics arrived shortly after and deemed her to be “in good health,” despite initial concerns about her eyesight and “traces of abnormal fluid leaking from her mouth.”

Forensic serologists later determined the fluid in question to be “f*cking drool, you f*cking morons.”

Whitsend’s vision also checked out fine.

“We really do need a bigger sign by that bed,” admitted Okais.

Officer John Long recognized Whitsend from a Missing Persons Report that had been filed over three weeks ago. He quickly closed out of his Candy Crush app to look up the emergency contact number listed on it.

Whitsend’s husband was at the store within an hour of receiving the call, stopping along the way for a quick trip through the McDonald’s drive-thru.

“I’ve got two of the yellow Monopoly pieces already, so I’m only one away from 25 grand,” he said between bites of a Sausage Egg McMuffin. “But the lady at the window said they’re not giving out game pieces anymore. You don’t happen to have Ventnor Avenue, do you? Maybe we could make a trade.”

Whitsend’s husband explained that he was concerned when his wife failed to return home after a routine grocery run several weeks ago.

“She went out for milk and just never came back,” he said. “It’s been awful. Seriously, this has been the worst month of my life. Anything could have happened to her. And I really just can’t stand the taste of dry cereal.”

Whitsend said she was picking up milk at Kroger when she suddenly remembered her 20% off coupon was about to expire.

“It was a spur of the moment thing,” she said. “I was just gonna pop in for some new hand towels. But once I was there, I couldn’t get myself to leave. It was so quiet. And there was a bed. An EMPTY bed. Plenty of Keurigs, name-brand K-cups, and outlets. I didn’t even need a microwave because I could drink a whole cup of coffee before it got cold.

“And the candy. OH GOD THE CANDY! Literally rows and rows of it near the checkouts, just sitting there for the taking. And no kids in sight, begging me to share.”

As of press time, Okais did not plan on pressing charges. In fact, he actually sent Whitsend home with two complimentary 46-oz containers of Tide and a brand new collapsible laundry basket.

“Collapsible,” she sighed when she mentioned the gifts. “God, the irony.”

“Hey babe, speaking of irons,” her husband chimed in. “I need my pewter dress shirt pressed before work tomorrow. And be careful not to melt the buttons this time.”

An anonymous source reported seeing Whitsend at Target later that evening, eyeing a futon and chewing on a stress ball.


About the Author

Samantha Wassel is a Stay-At-Home Mama to the cutest twin toddlers in the history of all Toddlerdom. When she’s not running her borderline-offensive mouth, she’s running masochistically long distances, often with the aforementioned toddlers in tow. She enjoys reading, writing, baking, marathoning, complaining, photographing, playgrounding, and Ghirardelli Midnight Reverie chocolate bars. Her writing has been featured on Scary Mommy, Club Mid, In the Powder Room, Bluntmoms, and Mamalode. Follow her on Facebook and check out her personal blog, Between the Monkey Bars.