Friday, March 23, 2007

the sort of good samaritan

A few nights ago, for the first time since that time in the summer after eighth grade when i left my backpack unattended at a waterpark in Phoenix because i was too lazy/cheap to get a locker (on that same trip I was also too lazy/idiotic to use sunscreen, resulting in second degree burns on my shoulders, but that's another story), I lost my wallet. It vanished mysteriously somewhere between that last bar and my house, and I didn't notice it was gone until the next morning. I figured the most likely scenario was that it fell out of my bag when I was in the cab home (and by "fell out of my bag" I mean I probably took it out and then missed the bag in attempting to put it back...hey, it was dark in there and both bag and wallet are black.) So I spent the next day canceling cards and calling every cab dispatch office in the New York metropolitan area. After several descriptions of my lost property and resultant snickers, I started regretting getting a wallet with a dinosaur on it. By the eighth or so call I gave up hope of ever seeing my wallet, and the $200 cash, bajillion cards and paychecks that'd need replacing, and almost ten-year-old Wisconsin driver's license, again.

After a few days of carrying around my passport and borrowed cash stuffed into the pocket of my Moleskine notebook, I received a phone call from my old roommate from the East Village apartment.

"There's a package for you here with no return address."

"It doesn't happen to be wallet-sized, by any chance, does it?"

"It looks like it could contain a wallet, actually."

Lo and behold, it was my wallet. Because I have yet to give my employer my new address (we just get our checks at work), and because I put off depositing my paychecks, whoever found my wallet sent it to a most convenient place. (Procrastination, you always come through for me.) Whoever found my wallet also availed himself of all the cash (coins included!! to save on shipping costs, perhaps?), and my monthly metrocard. I would like to know what went through the wallet finder's head. I imagine it was something like, "Thanks for the new iPod, silly drunk girl. I guess I can at least give you your crap back."

Oh well, I'm just happy to be able to put off going to the New York DMV for another year. And I like the dinosaurs.

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