The other day I went out to run a quick errand before work.
A pleasant morning, got my errand done, left the store and saw the bus I hoped to catch approaching the corner 1/2 block away.
Never run for the bus, a friend always told me, but I ran, caught it and paid my $1.25 fare. As I sank into a seat, enjoying the air-conditioned blast, I looked down and saw my bag gaping open.
Minus my cute pink wallet.
***
Break for panic, a quick search of my shopping bag, cursing, jumping off the bus, running full out 2 blocks back to where I boarded.
***
Now I remembered hearing a horn honk as I ran for the bus. Did someone see my wallet fall out?
I retraced my steps once, twice, went into each neighboring business, asked at a taco truck, a tire shop, a gas station.
A panhandler on the corner said he hadn't seen anything. You just paid for a whole lot of day drinking.
Where's my karma, I despaired. I've returned countless IDs and whole wallets over the years.
Then my phone rang. My front door, someone trying to get in my building.
As I pushed Decline, it hit me: maybe someone saw the fortunately correct address on my license and was bringing me my wallet!
***
Break for panicked waiting, please call back please call back.
***
Another call. My front door again.
Hello, I have your wallet?
Yes!
However, I was a long bus ride from home and even a fast Lyft would take 15 minutes.
The call kept dropping. I yelled out my cell phone #.
The good samaritan called me. Brittany, she said. A 504 number. She agreed she'd leave the wallet in a planter.
I'm so grateful, I'd like to pay for your gas or something, I said, and the call ended abruptly.
I got in the Lyft, tried calling her back. Again and again. The call didn't even ring. She blocked me!?
***
Break for panicked riding, calling my bank, calling the good samaritan, and my partner, who was now inside the building and saw no wallet.
***
At my building, leapt from the Lyft and ransacked the planters.
There it was, my wallet in the dirt, ID and credit card and debit card all still there.
And zero cash.
All gone, including a quarter for the bus.
***
The adrenaline rush left me exhausted.
I was mad, at myself for being careless.
At Brittany for cleaning me out.
I asked a kind neighbor to do a reverse look-up on the number and she found a little information, but in the end what did it matter who Brittany was or wasn't?
In a world full of me-firsts a stranger drove across town to return the important things, the stuff that's hard to replace.
*
Good people exist, I guess. But as always, it's complicated.
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