Lost and Found

In an attempt to show some solidarity with her during her time of need, I proceeded to lose my wallet. Not realizing my act of selflessness until the next morning, I spent the night trying to find a way to empathize with her situation and distract her from the panic that had taken hold. It would be ok, everything would work out. However, I had never lost my wallet before and it was difficult for me to relate. The morning ushered in a new found appreciation for her situation.

Not only had I lost my credit cards, and driver's license, but my car registration, and social security card as well - necessitating me to contact the credit bureaus to report a fraud alert, and beginning the process of determining how to obtain a new social security card. My only happiness came from the fact that I had acquired a new passport a few months back in anticipation of some overseas trips my ex and I had planned.

I called the Cold Stone Creamery I was at the night before, the one with one of the best staffs I have ever met. (They have a team that is just so high energy and fun, it makes the experience even more fun, which may be hard to imagine.) They did not have my wallet. I left my name and number. While I remained hopeful that Cold Stone would come through for me in this pinch, I weighed my options as far as driving, and determining how long it would take me to get replacements for my documents, and I cancelled all of my bank cards. The image of getting a speeding ticket in this situation, and the reaction of the officer to my answer when he asked for my license and registration was running through my head in a dramatic, yet comedic, loop.

I spent the night in reasonably good spirits. I maintained some fading hope that my wallet would turn up, and awoke to meet the challenge of convincing my bank that they really did not need two forms of I.D. to provide me with cash, as I only had my passport. Fortunately, no questions were asked and my money was simply handed to me so that I could purchase food and overpriced gas for the week.

Upon my return to my apartment, weighed down with groceries, I received the phone call I had hoped for. "This is Cold Stone, and I don't know when, who, or how, but we found your wallet. I have it right here." Relief and joy spread through my body. I had an identity again. I had proof of my existence, and could be a normal functioning member of society once again. Now I just have to wait for my newest plastic money to arrive.