I wasn't going to write about this but now I am.
Thursday, April 21, 2016, PRINCE died at 57 years old.
The same day... I lost my wallet.
The 2nd wallet lost in less than a month.
Thursday evening, I was walking toward the subway station after work. Stopped by a liquor store on the way to the train to pick up some reinforcements.
Simple transaction: Retrieve my wallet, give card, replace card in wallet, POCKET wallet.
Somehow... stone cold sober... I screwed this up.
The actions: replace card in wallet, replace wallet in pants pocket, place liquor bottle in backpack, cross street while listening to ipod.
I guess this was too many actions for my 40-year-old mind to keep in check.
Halfway to the train station, I realized that my pants pocket felt light...
I didn't have my wallet.
I proceeded to pound the pavement, back and forth between the liquor store and the train station.
I returned to the liquor store. The woman who took my order was really nice. She even REPLAYED the security cam footage so that we could all review my transaction!
There I was on the screen. Buying a bottle of whiskey. Shoving my wallet back into my pants as I placed the liquor bottle into my backpack. Nothing dropped on the way out of that store.
The worst part was that this was the 2nd wallet in less than a month that I'd lost.
Thing is, I was fucking stranded. I had to call a friend to come by to loan me some cash just so I could make my way home that night.
How could the same thing happen in less than a month? While I was being completely paranoid/careful...?
Thursday night, I got home around 9:30ish. That was my 2nd day on this new job and I'd already suffered a major setback. I canceled/ordered-replacements-of cards and had my bottle of booze for dinner. On the phone with the Mastercard girl, she seemed oddly sympathetic and after I told her my sob story she even proffered, "I'll be thinking of you when I get off work today..." Which, oddly, made me regret not asking for her information before I ended the call... but I was in a funk...
Friday, I got to work hungover. Over an acceptable amt of time, I shared my misfortune with my new coworkers...
.. and not too soon into all of that, I received a message from a person who FOUND MY WALLET.
This kid who worked at the SVA Theater in Chelsea found my goddamn wallet on the street near Steiner Studios and he fucking looked me up on internets and got me.
Friday night, I met him after work, while he was working at the SVA Theater. I bought him a bottle of booze as thanks (from the same liquor store where I'd last used that wallet), using the one credit card that I still possessed.
I am no religious person but god bless this kid. I was damn near losing my goddamn mind. Wish I coulda afforded him a bigger bottle of the top shelfer I bought him as thanx.