my wallet disappeared this afternoon. i had it at brunch. i had it to get on the bus after brunch. but, sometime after that, it disappeared. i have two theories: either it fell out of my pocket in the restroom at Union Station, or i was pickpocketed in the crushing crowd by the Megabus stop. since it wasn't at union station lost and found...either way, i consider it gone. stolen. appropriated for the benefit of people other than its rightful owner.
fortunately, i called and cancelled my debit and credit cards before they were used. it will suck not to have them for 10-15 business days (including my trip to HOPE...ugh!), but at least i can get cash at the bank locations, and i don't have to deal with filing fraudulent charge reports. also, there was only $10 or $15 in cash in there, so i didn't lose very much in that regard. my CTA card in there was also a 30-day pass on a Chicago Card Plus, so i don't lose money on my CTA account...i can get a replacement pass tomorrow, and transfer the account. sure, i'm not happy that my ID was in there, or my awesome TOOOL credit card lockpick set, but the long and short of it is that i did damage control as well as i possibly could have. i have ID out the wazoo at home, and the 7-day CTA pass that Mark used when he was here still has a few days on it, so i can go to the bank, the state ID office, and the CTA office to accomplish my objectives tomorrow with a minimum of trouble.
still...the world has a way of kicking me while i'm down. i was still standing at the Megabus stop waiting with Mark for his bus back to Detroit, and i had just gotten off the phone with the bank to cancel my debit and credit cards. this cracked-out looking guy walks up to us and asks us if we have any spare change, and he has a wad of five or ten $1 bills in his outstretched hands. i shook my head no, and he moved on. but, seriously...this cracked-out dude has more cash on him than i do, thanks to my missing wallet. i quipped that maybe he needs a little more money, since my wallet had so little cash in it.
in other words...sorry, crackhead. can't help you there.
about forty-five minutes later, after Mark's bus finally had come, i walked back to catch the Madison bus home. i'm sitting in the bus shelter, and another crackhead comes into the bus shelter. he issues a general plea to everyone in the bus shelter to donate their spare change to him, and no one responds. then, he sidles up to me, and asks me specifically to donate my spare change to him. i shake my head.
he calls me a bitch, and walks away.
now, i'm not saying i'd have given him money even if i did have a wallet. i generally don't respond well to crackheads asking for my money, since i know exactly where it's going to go. but...it stings especially hard when the crackhead calls you a bitch after you refuse to give him money, when you have $0.00 on your person, and access to nothing but a few dollars worth of pocket change and leftover laundry quarters at home until the bank opens on Monday.
may your crack rocks tonight be made of nothing but baking soda.