I Lost My Wallet, But It Found Me

Guys know what I mean when I say that I am a habitual "self patter downer" - you get out of a vehicle, up from a chair, randomly while walking: each time, you pat yourself down for your keys, wallet, phone, etc.

Thursday night/Friday morning, I decided I needed some milk and a snack. Off to the store I went. I paid for my items and headed home. Friday morning, I woke up to get ready for work but couldn't find my wallet anywhere. Did I misplace it in my sugar-induced coma from my snack? I retraced all of my steps, ripped my house and my Jeep apart. Nothing. That feeling of loss started to hit me. I called the store. It hadn't been turned in. My next move was the "call of shame" to my credit card company and bank.

Now, dear reader, I didn't care about the contents of the wallet. I cared about the wallet itself. I have had this wallet for almost six years. It has been washed, dunked in a pool numerous times, been covered in mud, and even got run over by a tractor (don't ask). It was handmade by a guy based on a single Facebook message I sent him.

I want the most American wallet you can think of, but I want the only one of its kind. Never to be made again...

He made it, I fell in love and couldn't give him money fast enough to put it in my hands.

Back to the story. You never know how vulnerable you feel until you can't provide proof of who you are. I ran to the bank after canceling my card to get a new temporary debit card. Even though I know all of my accounts and info, and one of the tellers knew who I was, I couldn't get a temporary card until I produced a license for them. However, you can't get a new license unless you have the money to pay for it. I couldn't pay for my license without a debit card. Notice this circle doesn't stop? Thank the baby Jesus, I was able to run to a place that took a check for my license. Got my license, got a debit card, and did the walk of shame to get a new wallet.

In middle school, grunge style was a thing. I had a giant chain wallet made out of bike chain, double strung, and also had a pocket watch attached to said chains. I was cool, you don't have to tell me. As I am walking into the store, I decided that it was time to bring back the look, plus I never wanted to go through this situation again. A $10 dollar chain wallet would be the ticket! So, I took the plunge. Judge all you want.

The rest of the day was spent working and thinking about my beautiful, handmade wallet that was probably in someone else's back pocket or maybe it was sitting outside somewhere, afraid and lonely. I finished my last event Friday evening and headed to KD's for some supper before heading home. As I pulled into the parking lot, a truck pulled up next to me. The gentlemen rolled his window down and started to ask about where I live. He nailed the information to the T and then uttered the words I thought I would never hear.

I have your wallet here with me!

I don't know how fast I got out of the Gator truck, but the next thing I knew, it was in my hands. The guy is my neighbor. He saw my wallet laying by my Jeep that morning and picked it up on his way to work. As he was on his way home, he saw me in the truck passing in front of him and followed me. Everything was still in it, down to my 50¢ voucher to the Golden Nugget. He told me a story about how he had dropped an envelope full of cash for rent and never got it back. He remembered that feeling and didn't want someone else to go through that same issue. I won't tell you I didn't cry a bit to have my wallet back, because I did. I hugged him probably way too many times and thanked him over and over again.

In closing, we see the bad side of the world on a daily basis and it's hard to sometimes see the good because of it. The little things to make someones day can be as simple as holding a door, saying hi, or finding a lost wallet. If you want to see good in the world, do good things. I will never forget that day or how the simple act of a random stranger returning my wallet made me feel.