When Samuel L. challenges me with that question, I feel like one of the patrons held hostage in the Pulp Fiction diner. I start to sweat and throw myself face down on the floor. He terrifies me.
Most of the time Samuel L. isn’t purring in my ear, so I ignore this question and don’t give a thought to what’s in my wallet.
Until I lost it.
Traveling breaks your normal routine and that’s when mishaps occur. You oversleep and miss a train connection. Drive your rental car the wrong way down a one-way street. Or lose your wallet because you leave it in a shopping cart.
I was provisioning for a weekend away and in the hub-a-lub of packing the cooler, I somehow left my wallet in the shopping cart when I stowed it back in the corral. Duh. I realized my flub when I stopped ¾ of the way to my destination to buy a cup of coffee and couldn’t find it.
I considered returning home to search for it, but it would be way too late to hit the road again. I knew my friends would lend me cash to get through the weekend, so I continued on. But the reel that kept playing in my head was, “Monday is going to suck because I’m going to have to try to figure out what I lost, cancel cards, get a new license, why am I so stupid, who can I blame…”
I pulled over three times and re-searched the car. I called the supermarket; the manager checked the carts but came up empty. Then I called home. A Good Samaritan found it and left a message on my machine. My daughter said she’d pick it up. Thank you…thank you…thank you!
Disaster averted. This time. I’ve taken a precautionary step should I find myself in this predicament once again. I took everything out of my wallet and photocopied my cards – front and back. I dated it and put it in a file marked “When Stupid Things Happen to Smart People”. I also stashed a bit of cash in a hidey spot in the car. Sometimes the best defense is a good offense. Bring it on, Samuel L.; I think it’s time for a Royale with cheese.