I don't drive so I rely upon public transportation. Usually that means taking buses everywhere.
I almost always wear jeans but today I went out in shorts and the pockets on these shorts frakking suck. I was neglectful and I did not check to ensure everything was still in there before I got off the Route 11 at about 4PM. As I'm sure you've surmised, this is how I lost my wallet; I left it on the bus like a damn fool.
Went into Sheetz to grab some lunch and do some studying. If you don't know what Sheetz is, think WaWa. If you don't know what WaWa is, think 7-11 but substantially better. If you don't know what 7-11 is, I simply cannot help you. You must help yourself. Got up to the cashier and realized my wallet was gone. Tried not to freak out too severely. Searched around and couldn't find it. A guy behind me in line was supremely generous and paid for my lunch. I calmed down for long enough to thank him (though needless to say I stuffed said lunch into my backpack; this was not the time for feasting upon pre-made, middling salad).
I put two and two together and realized how screwed I was. Contacted Durham's bus service hotline and was told by the Lost and Found department that they don't have a direct line to bus drivers so I'd have to pray. (Literally, I was instructed to begin praying to Jesus. Ironically, this was when I began to lose faith in the situation.) Another Route 11 bus came by and I threw caution to the wind, hopped aboard, and pleaded with the driver to help me reach the 11 that I'd gotten off of if it were remotely within her power to do so.
The woman was kind and gladly let me on without paying given my circumstances. She radioed the other bus and asked the driver if there was any way they could stop their bus briefly and check the seats. The woman on the other end of the radio was substantially less kind. She... cursed my new driver out right over the radio within earshot of everyone who was presently on the bus. Going off of memory here:
"Fuck you, bitch! Fuck you, bitch. You search your own damn bus, I ain't got time for your bitch ass shit after you didn't cover my goddamn shift last night when I was out because my baby had a cold and you didn't give a shit about my baby, you search your own damn bus."
As you might imagine, this response was less than helpful.
My driver was frustrated and almost forgot to explain that searching her own damn bus would not accomplish anything because it was not her own damn bus that I had ridden on at the time of the loss of much wallet. Instead, the two drivers spent over a minute arguing over the uncovered shift. I glanced at my fellow passengers. They glanced back. All but one of us was mystified. (The other one chanted "Jerry" repeatedly, as though it were an incantation.)
At last, prompted by my flailing gestures and increasingly loud requests to return to the topic at hand, my formerly kind driver explained to her... companion... that it was her companion's bus that needed to be checked. The other driver stopped talking; for a long moment it seemed she was ignoring us. Eventually, she came back on, and she reported that no, there was no wallet to be found.
I sank into my seat in despair. Everything that can go in a wallet was in that wallet. Well. Not literally everything. But entirely too much nevertheless. I started to wonder if the Lost and Found employee had the right of it, although with all the unwarranted profanity I'd been so recently subjected to, I was thinking of asking Buddha for guidance instead.
The passenger nearest me picked up their mobile phone and dialed someone. I ignored this at first because it was an ignorable action. But then I heard the caller's words and I froze.
"Paul. This is TJ. Give them the wallet." <pause> "Straight up. Give them the wallet. They're on to you." <pause; I'm staring with my mouth agape> "Alright." <hangs up> "Hey, Paul gonna give that driver your wallet, son. Have them call them back."
He was talking to me. I blinked. Probably more than once. "Thanks," I heard myself say, and I got up again and asked the driver to radio the upset driver one more time, explaining why to the best of my ability. She did so. Sure enough, my wallet had been turned in. TJ had turned the tide.
I thanked TJ again. He told me Paul has fallen on hard times so he's been stealing again. I told TJ that I hope Paul gets better soon. What the hell else could I have told TJ? What the hell was even going on?
Lost and Found took my wallet from the other driver ahead of my arrival at the downtown station. I was instructed to head inside and go up to the customer service window. The Jesus lady was there; she asked me if I had prayed to Jesus earlier. I sinned and said sure. I guess I'm going to hell now; whatever.
She then asked me for my ID to prove the wallet belonged to me.
"My ID... is in my wallet, though?"
"I understand that, sir; do you have any other form of identification on you at this time?"
"Um, no, all of that is in my wallet... which you're currently holding in your hands... can you maybe just dig in there, pull out my ID, and match my face to the picture?"
"I don't believe so, sir; hold on one moment while I contact my supervisor."
I was so close. I could see my wallet on the other side of the customer service window. TJ had reached Paul. Yet I could not reach my wallet.
Jesus lady returned. "He says I can go ahead and give this to you but next time you need to have ID if you want to pick something up because for all I know you could be anybody coming in here asking for a wallet, you know? I don't know you but I am going to trust you."
I thanked Jesus lady. I got my wallet back. I vowed never to wear shorts on a bus again. I ate my salad and came home and gathered my composure and wrote up this thread.
I almost always wear jeans but today I went out in shorts and the pockets on these shorts frakking suck. I was neglectful and I did not check to ensure everything was still in there before I got off the Route 11 at about 4PM. As I'm sure you've surmised, this is how I lost my wallet; I left it on the bus like a damn fool.
Went into Sheetz to grab some lunch and do some studying. If you don't know what Sheetz is, think WaWa. If you don't know what WaWa is, think 7-11 but substantially better. If you don't know what 7-11 is, I simply cannot help you. You must help yourself. Got up to the cashier and realized my wallet was gone. Tried not to freak out too severely. Searched around and couldn't find it. A guy behind me in line was supremely generous and paid for my lunch. I calmed down for long enough to thank him (though needless to say I stuffed said lunch into my backpack; this was not the time for feasting upon pre-made, middling salad).
I put two and two together and realized how screwed I was. Contacted Durham's bus service hotline and was told by the Lost and Found department that they don't have a direct line to bus drivers so I'd have to pray. (Literally, I was instructed to begin praying to Jesus. Ironically, this was when I began to lose faith in the situation.) Another Route 11 bus came by and I threw caution to the wind, hopped aboard, and pleaded with the driver to help me reach the 11 that I'd gotten off of if it were remotely within her power to do so.
The woman was kind and gladly let me on without paying given my circumstances. She radioed the other bus and asked the driver if there was any way they could stop their bus briefly and check the seats. The woman on the other end of the radio was substantially less kind. She... cursed my new driver out right over the radio within earshot of everyone who was presently on the bus. Going off of memory here:
"Fuck you, bitch! Fuck you, bitch. You search your own damn bus, I ain't got time for your bitch ass shit after you didn't cover my goddamn shift last night when I was out because my baby had a cold and you didn't give a shit about my baby, you search your own damn bus."
As you might imagine, this response was less than helpful.
My driver was frustrated and almost forgot to explain that searching her own damn bus would not accomplish anything because it was not her own damn bus that I had ridden on at the time of the loss of much wallet. Instead, the two drivers spent over a minute arguing over the uncovered shift. I glanced at my fellow passengers. They glanced back. All but one of us was mystified. (The other one chanted "Jerry" repeatedly, as though it were an incantation.)
At last, prompted by my flailing gestures and increasingly loud requests to return to the topic at hand, my formerly kind driver explained to her... companion... that it was her companion's bus that needed to be checked. The other driver stopped talking; for a long moment it seemed she was ignoring us. Eventually, she came back on, and she reported that no, there was no wallet to be found.
I sank into my seat in despair. Everything that can go in a wallet was in that wallet. Well. Not literally everything. But entirely too much nevertheless. I started to wonder if the Lost and Found employee had the right of it, although with all the unwarranted profanity I'd been so recently subjected to, I was thinking of asking Buddha for guidance instead.
The passenger nearest me picked up their mobile phone and dialed someone. I ignored this at first because it was an ignorable action. But then I heard the caller's words and I froze.
"Paul. This is TJ. Give them the wallet." <pause> "Straight up. Give them the wallet. They're on to you." <pause; I'm staring with my mouth agape> "Alright." <hangs up> "Hey, Paul gonna give that driver your wallet, son. Have them call them back."
He was talking to me. I blinked. Probably more than once. "Thanks," I heard myself say, and I got up again and asked the driver to radio the upset driver one more time, explaining why to the best of my ability. She did so. Sure enough, my wallet had been turned in. TJ had turned the tide.
I thanked TJ again. He told me Paul has fallen on hard times so he's been stealing again. I told TJ that I hope Paul gets better soon. What the hell else could I have told TJ? What the hell was even going on?
Lost and Found took my wallet from the other driver ahead of my arrival at the downtown station. I was instructed to head inside and go up to the customer service window. The Jesus lady was there; she asked me if I had prayed to Jesus earlier. I sinned and said sure. I guess I'm going to hell now; whatever.
She then asked me for my ID to prove the wallet belonged to me.
"My ID... is in my wallet, though?"
"I understand that, sir; do you have any other form of identification on you at this time?"
"Um, no, all of that is in my wallet... which you're currently holding in your hands... can you maybe just dig in there, pull out my ID, and match my face to the picture?"
"I don't believe so, sir; hold on one moment while I contact my supervisor."
I was so close. I could see my wallet on the other side of the customer service window. TJ had reached Paul. Yet I could not reach my wallet.
Jesus lady returned. "He says I can go ahead and give this to you but next time you need to have ID if you want to pick something up because for all I know you could be anybody coming in here asking for a wallet, you know? I don't know you but I am going to trust you."
I thanked Jesus lady. I got my wallet back. I vowed never to wear shorts on a bus again. I ate my salad and came home and gathered my composure and wrote up this thread.
