VIRB

I have resided in New York now for 363 days, 2 of these nights I have lost my wallet in a yellow taxi. The first time was around November-December of 2006. The second time was a mere 3 months ago, and my wallet was still nowhere to be found.

Saturday night while leaving a pub, I spotted a shiny patent leather Louis Vuitton wallet abandoned near the back door of an unnamed restaurant. There could only be a few reasons why this would have happened, but because of the circumstances and surroundings I automatically assumed that someone, in a whirlpool of drunken stupor, had left it there while crouching over to throw up their $150 dollar bar tab.

Having lost my wallet twice in less than a year, I felt their pain. Imagine having to scrummage through all of your (unorganized) files looking for old records of card numbers, driver's licenses or social security cards all the while paranoid that someone was going to steal your identity or go buy unimaginably expensive things. Not fun. Definitely not fun. With empathy, I picked it up, stuck it in my purse and planned on sending it back to her Monday morning.

I walked to the post office at lunch on Monday and sent it off First Class mail. It cost me $2.64 but I was fine with that. I even mailed it off with a little letter wishing her that it would get to her safely.

Later Monday night, I received calls from my mom. One missed call. Another missed call. Finally, I picked it up. She told me that when she went to check the mail, there was an envelope lacking a return address on it with my name on it. Curious as to what it might be, she opened it.

Here's the crazy part.

It was my wallet.

Out of the time span that it could have arrived (3 months), it arrived on the same day that I sent someone else's wallet back to them. Speak of karma.

Pay it back.