The phone rings at work. The name of the restaurant where Ed and I ate dinner on his birthday last May 30 pops up in the caller ID.
Me (answering phone, but thinking the call must be intended for another department, which sometimes orders food for meetings): This is Rebecca.
Caller: Hello. Is this Rebecca [last name]?
Me: Yes, this is she.
Caller: This is “Peter” at [restaurant]. I have your purse.
Me (interally): ::: THUD! :::
YUP. The purse I assumed had been stolen when it didn’t turn up after I left it at a restaurant almost 10 months ago? It turns out that it was locked up in the restaurant’s office all this time, apart from the undetermined amount of time it spent in the restaurant’s Lost and Found. The general manager was cleaning out the drawer today and found my purse.
Everything was still there. So, I’m about $50, $23 in Target gift card, $5 in Wal-Mart gift card and $5 in Starbucks gift card “richer.” Also found? Now-replaced credit cards, office security card, and various receipts from my therapist, not to mention assorted bits of purse detritus.
So all I’m out is the $25 to replace my security card at work and some finance charges, the result of Ed’s not realizing he was getting the wrong e-bill from one of my card companies and, therefore, not paying the bill. (The late payments didn’t show up on my credit report — at least not so far — which is excellent.)
I am thankful that my stuff really WAS safe all this time… just not with me.