Hello from Mile Marker 10,437...
...where I lost my wallet. Again!
I've been working on a bunch of blog posts, but like everything else these days, they're so messy and jumbled, they may never survive cyberspace.
So instead, I'll tell this story.
It's called The Way The World Is.
Wait, you say. I already know how the world is, and I definitely DON'T want to hear about it!
I totally get it.
But you might want to hear this version.
THIS is my wallet.
And THIS is Wawa.
|(Thanks WPST, for the photo.)|
Two Saturdays ago, I ran into this Wawa -- with that wallet -- to buy my dad a pint of cherry vanilla ice cream.
Ok, truth. I didn't quite run.
Also, they were out of cherry vanilla.
So I chose a pint of Cherry Garcia which -- you might agree -- is a pretty good alternative. Maybe even a step above.
I paid at the register. Scooped my change off that little coin chute. Made my way out of the store. (I've become an efficient shopper during the pandemic!)
Possibly too efficient.
I hopped back into the car where my mom was waiting. Handed her the container. Headed toward home.
Dad was a happy camper.
While he ate his ice cream, my mom and I spent a lovely afternoon planting flowers in the backyard. By the time I got home that night, it was late. And that's when I realized... Gulp.
Where's my wallet??
It was pretty easy to retrace my steps -- I mean, after searching the entire car with a flashlight and emptying every bag I own! At quarter to midnight, I even had my parents searching their house. Nothing.
It could only be one place.
As we say in Philly... "The Wa."
And even luckier for me, when I dialed their number, a friendly, helpful employee answered the phone.
And -- if I could push my luck even further -- THEY FOUND MY WALLET.
Yes, after almost 9 hours MIA, my wallet was locked safely in the Wawa manager's office!
At sunrise, my mom drove there to get the wallet. She called to tell me it was completely intact -- right down to a few dollar bills and the dry cleaning ticket in the front pocket. Woo-hoo!! I planned to pick it up from her later.
That's where the luck wavers a bit.
I got sick and couldn't drive out there to get it.
It was chronic abdominal stuff -- leftover from my accident -- but that's a story for another blog post. I'm on the mend now.
And my wonderful parents -- resourceful as they are -- packed the wallet into a box, sealed it up like Fort Knox, and took it to the post office.
A day later, it arrived home safe and sound.
Don't you just love happy endings?
Hold on. It's not quite the end.
This is not the first time I've lost my wallet. Or even the second time. It's actually the THIRD.
#2 was on 3rd Street.
And #3... Well, you know.
Each time, my wallet has miraculously found its way back me, contents undisturbed. All because of the kindness of strangers.
There's a lesson here. I know there is.
I should keep better track of my stuff. (My dad wholeheartedly agrees.)
I should keep my wallet in a purse. (My mom seconds that.)
But wait, maybe there's another lesson. Yes, yes. There's definitely another.
It's this. This story. THIS is how the world is.
As complex and convoluted as the world can be, good stuff happens too -- once in a while. Sometimes luck is on our side. And best of all, there are plenty of GOOD PEOPLE out there.
I keep this little comic strip on my fridge as a reminder. But lately I've forgotten to look at it. So I'm just gonna leave it here.
In case you need a reminder too.
|And that's the way it is.|