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Working it out in the world, and sometimes writing about it.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Hey Wallet...I Miss You

I lost my wallet. Don’t ask me how, I don’t know. I know I had it at the gelato place and then it was gone the next morning. I assumed Christy, Jessie’s cousin, had it and had accidentally left for Paris with it in her bag. We had gone out for aperitivo (you buy a drink—in my case, a 5 Euro glass of wine—and you get free food, buffet-style, lots of it) and I had asked her if I could put it in her purse because I didn’t want it snatched from my coat pocket while I was loading up my plate. Post-aperitivo, Christy handed me my wallet so I could pay for my gelato. And then it gets unclear about who had what and when. I thought I handed it back to her, but she swears up and down she doesn’t have it. I seriously doubt it fell out of my pocket on the way home, and its certainly not in the apartment, and I turned it upside down. I checked my account activity online—nothing suspicious at all.
I lost: my debit card; International Student ID card; $30 international calling card; 20 Euro; my Uffizzi card, a card that grants me free unlimited access to the public museums in Florence; and a card that handily had my passport number on it. The debit card situation is worked out, I get a new one today. But it does concern me that my passport number and an ID are somewhere out there. So I have to make a stop at the US Embassy tomorrow…awesome.
I know it’s going to turn up. Or at least, I hope so. Someone has it, unwittingly. But the sad thing is, eve if it miraculously did fall out of my pocket, the good Samaritan who would turn it in (if such a thing exists) wouldn’t know what to do with it. I have no contact info in there, and the police have no way of finding me, either, as our permesso di sigiornos won’t be processed until after we leave. How handy.
So, I cried, and then cut my losses. Fuck it, I have more important things to do.
But, hey, Wallet, if you’re reading this, could you come back, please? My Uffizzi card hasn’t yet paid for itself and you and I, Wallet, we have history together. You’ve seen me through some pretty rough times, and I’d like to have my friend back. I’m sorry about that scratch that’s on your back—I was being careless when I threw you in my backpack with pencils. I’ll do better next time, Wallet, I promise. Please come home? Give me another chance?

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