5:01 p.m. - 2001-11-17
I am the happiest boy in the whole world.
I saw my little sis today and found out that a good way to drive her nuts is to suggest that I wrote something about her in my journal. She was going to work, see, and there would be several hours before she had the opportunity to check.
Mmmmhmm. It's fun alright.
(note to Sis: Ha ha! Monkeys always loo-ook!)
On to more important things, like my selfless act of heroism today. I was walking along, minding my own business (which is rare cuz I'm a nosey little fuck) when my senses started to tingle and tell me something. So I scratched and continued on. Then I saw it. A woman's wallet sitting right there, right on the ground next to the driver side door of a car. I looked around and saw people everywhere but none that stood out as the owner. I thought about leaving it where it lay and letting the owner try their luck at finding it when they returned, but it was a crowded street, Haight street to be exact, and the chances of somebody else seeing it and not deciding to keep it were slimmer here than many spots on this earth.
So I picked it up.
Now I don't know if this is my own little private way of being a screwed up human, but whenever I'm in a situation like this I always get a strange sensation of guilt wash over me. I knew I wasn't going to keep it, but none the less I felt like I was a fucking crook. I get the same thing when I walk out of a convenience store and don't buy anything. I feel as though the cashier must suspect that I put something in my pocket and am now carrying it out under their nose in a brazen shoplifting attempt. I almost suspect myself for chrissakes. In fact I often end up trying to talk myself out of calling the cops on my cell phone to narc myself out when the 7eleven doesn't have any of the frozen confection novelties that I like, forcing me to leave the premisis empty handed.(and continue my search city wide because god damn it I love me some creme-sicles.) But I'm not no fucking narc!
So anyway, I stood by the car and made a big show of looking around, kind of like a mime doing a silent skit.
"Hmmm…Where could the owner of this wallet be?" My motions and expressions said. "I have no intention of keeping this wallet, and in fact, by scratching my head and squinting my eyes as I look around, I hope everyone can instantly see what a good boy I am. Yes, even you across the street."
I then borrowed a pen from Jane, and with all the fanfare of Ed Norton signing his name to a contract, wrote a small note so that the owner of the wallet could contact me to retrieve it.
Then I tore ass away from the scene.
About ten minutes later I got the call and went back to where the car was parked to meet the owner. She was very thankful, as people who get their misplaced wallets back usually are, and tried to give me $10 as a reward. I assured her it wasn't necessary, that her having her wallet made me feel good enough and was it's own reward.
Besides, I plan to buy myself something nice with her credit card number.