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Carol Perkins: Oh no, not again
Previous Column: Eighteen Again
By Carol Perkins
Oh no, not again. Right in the middle of the meat department at Sam's, a cold shudder came over me when I realized my Vera Bradly tiny pouch that held my ID, my debit card, and my phone were gone. Frantic thoughts raced to the last time I had them. In the garden center outside the door. We moved to the checkout without any mention of my dilemma. I was confident that I would find them with one sweep through the flowers.
Guy loaded the groceries on the back of the truck while I disappeared across the lot. "Where are you going?" he asked, fearful I was after more flowering bushes. I waved to him.
I scoured the flower center in partial darkness but found nothing. Guy followed me, which meant I had to confess. Even though the store was now closed, the associates we gracious and understanding. They searched lost and found and even called my cell phone. Nothing. "Call tomorrow and see if someone turned it in," a young guy suggested.
Once back in the truck, Guy mentioned that I should cancel my debit card, which I did.
As we entered the Cumberland Parkway with my brooding against the window, we heard the sound of a cell phone. We looked at each other as if an alien were riding with us. In the floorboard lay my phone, ringing its sweet little "tone" off. Carla had called. The phone was buried under the tarp Guy keeps in the truck. How it got under there, I'll never know unless when one of us raised the console on which it was lying, it flipped to the back. I was so glad to see the little creature. However, my wallet wasn't with it.
I waited until noon before calling the store, giving someone time to find it. I was so relieved and excited to hear the girl say, "We've got it!" Identification was easy since my driver's license was prominently displayed through a plastic window.
I have been a victim of my carelessness and recklessness many times when it comes to my purse or wallet. On my recent visit to Texas, my granddaughter reminded me of the last time we were together, and I had dropped the same wallet our way to the parking lot of the mall, and we found it in a rain puddle. When teaching, I left my purse unattended too many times, and itchy hands took it. One thief left my purse in the shrubbery in front of the school, missing my money.
Guy suggested I buy a chain and hook my wallet to my jeans. I will pass on that fashion statement right now. Each time I do something like this, I scold myself for not being more cautious. Yet, I keep repeating my mistakes. This "old dog" can't seem to learn.
Carol's most recent book, based on a true story, The Case of the Missing Ring, is available through Amazon, both paperback and ebook. You can contact her at email@example.com.
This story was posted on 2021-05-08 14:49:24
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