I lost my wallet on Jay Street in Brooklyn this weekend.
I was visiting a friend at the end of an exceptionally good and golden fall day. And I guess I was feeling too happy because when I hailed a cab to go to my next Brooklyn stop, just a short distance away, my wallet wasn’t in my purse. Nor was it in my coat I rented from Rent the Runway, a post-pandemic luxury with a black faux fur collar.
Perhaps I can blame my lack of attention to fashion. I did look stylish. I paired the coat with my own broad-brimmed blue hat. But the hat kept pulling at the ear straps of my mask, another distraction leading to the lost wallet.
I backtracked my steps several times on the same two blocks and did not find it. So I got into an Uber, now really not trusting my judgment on the train.
And on that short ride to my dinner destination, I canceled my debit card and credit card, feeling very foolish indeed.
The next morning, I got an email from a woman who found it during her bike ride from Brooklyn into Manhattan. She agreed to meet me late this afternoon near the finish line of the New York City Marathon.
I ran that race once in 2014, one of the best times of my life. As I neared 5th and 59th, where I was to meet her outside the Apple Store, I heard a continuous cheer. Wow. I remember turning that corner onto the last stretch into Central Park. And I remember smiling the whole time. New Yorkers were nice to me that day, as they were today.
So I stopped and took a quick video of participants as they turned into the next dimension of the race and their lives. This must be a good omen.
Then I met my wallet’s guardian, a born-and-bred New Yorker, who was also smiling. It was such a mild, pretty late afternoon, and the marathon represents one solid day of lighter moods. She handed me my wallet.
“How did you find it?” I asked.
“Oh, this sounds weird,” she said. “Can you take it?”
“Yes,” now intrigued.
“I thought it was a dead rat instead of a wallet. I collect pictures of dead rats for my Instagram feed.”
I grinned. This woman was awesome. I tried to offer her money, or a coffee, since everything was still in my wallet, including my vaccine records. She refused. But she did say this:
“Can you pay it forward and follow me on Instagram? I’m at flrats_of_nyc.”