Last night, I left my wallet behind whilst riding the 49 back to Capitol Hill. It always happens this way -- I'm glancing down at my wallet, thinking, "I should probably put this in my bag." And then I answer myself with the ridiculous, "Oh, no, I should not do that, I'm going into a bar, and I would never want to be that asshole helplessly rummaging through a bag for 10 minutes." (the bouncer always cards me within 10 seconds of walking in, and this happens every time.)
So what happens? I get down to the Montana to meet up with my friend and creative partner, he's a bit older than me and already only takes me so seriously, and I have no wallet, no ID. He tells me to sit down, relax, and "act adult", and proceeds to buy me two rounds of drinks. He introduces me to his friend and we have a fascsinating conversation about Vietnam -- his cousin died in Cambodia, apparently (yeah.)The night ends and the two gentlemen very kindly hand me some cash so as for me to hail a cab ride home. And feeling much like an asshole, I hail a cab ride home and find my roommates dancing in the living room.
Anyway, long story short, apparently some gentleman by the name of Jeff found my wallet on the bus, and rather than turning it into the police, saw the uniqueness that is my name and decided to look me up. He found my Vimeo profile and messaged me there. I rode my bike down to Rainier Valley to pick up the wallet, and we not only discussed my film, but he proceeded to tell me his life story. Turns out the guy writes for a newspaper, races cars in his spare time, and has access to potentially fascinating stories for documentary film.
Sometimes, people are great.
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