Not as a metaphor. Actual keys. Jessica, 26, closing shift at a sports bar in Phoenix, had a regular named Greg who drove a 2019 Honda Civic and, apparently, a very generous amount of craft beer. At 1:45 AM he declared the car "bad for his energy" and dropped the keys in her tip jar like it was a crumpled five. Jessica called him an Uber, locked the car, and texted him the spot in the morning. (Greg showed up, mortified, with a $200 cash apology tip and a breakfast burrito.) She kept the burrito. She did not keep the car, but honestly she thought about it longer than she'll admit, and that's the part of the story she tells last.