Sunday, December 12, 2010

A Story pt. 2

SO...

I lost my 10 year old wallet cavorting around in the streets of San Francisco after dark. How I had managed to hold on to it through several years in the dorms, sloshy college parties, trips to faraway lands, and the "lost years" of my early twenties beats me. I had once managed to wake up without my pants with my shoes still on, but knew exactly where my tiny Coach wallet was snuggled. So you can imagine my surprise the next morning when I went to get coffee bleary eyed and grogged out to find that my wallet was

Not. There.

I freaked out silently under my skin, but kept a cool demeanor, convincing myself that it was in my jacket pocket at home.

It. Wasn't.

So I freaked out a little more when I called the bar I was at and asked if it was located.

Nope. Sorry.

Then it dawned on me... I had an artsy type of night. Sometimes, when I have a little sippy-sippy, I tend to believe I'm a teensy more talented at artistic visions. This night I decided it was a good idea to create magic with shots of me and friends in dark street lights, stoops, and next to garbage cans or whatever (edgy...). While pulling my camera repeatedly out of my purse I managed to knock my wallet on to the waiting streets of the Mission District of San Francisco, to be at best ignored by fancy hipsters, and at worst shat on and sold to the black market by crackheads.

Sighing a deep heavy resounding breath of defeat, I called the wallet dead in the water and proceeded to cancel my credit and debit cards. Then I realized all the small things that are stupid, but sadly carried so much value: My Cheese steak punch card (I just had two stamps left until free cheesy steaky glory!), My bookstore punch card, my Macy's gift card, my college ID with no expiration date (how else would my old ass get a dollar off of movies?!?!). These things meant the world to me, but now would be gone forever....

I went to work on Monday, paper clip securing my passport, expired ID, and a few dollars. How far I had fallen on the scale of wallets. I slowly took off my gloves and opened up my work e-mail. After several boring announcements about boringness, I saw it:

Subject: YOUR WALLET

what the hell? I thought, as I opened the digital letter.

I found your wallet and picked up most of the stuff inside on Valencia St., let me know how to get it back to you.

THE HEAVENS HAD PARTED, ANGELS SUNG STUPID SONGS, AND MY WALLET HAD BEEN FOUND!

To conclude a long story, dude sent my wallet in the mail, and I got it back- including my cheese steak punch card.

There really are good people out there in the universe...

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