Oh, I have to write about this. Nothing like it has ever happened to me before!
Yesterday we were in the city; we made a stop at a downtown shop and I made a purchase, put my wallet away and we went off to Scott’s Parable, a Christian bookstore, to browse and get something at their little coffee nook.
En route I wondered if I had a certain gift certificate our children had given me for Christmas so I unzipped a small inside compartment in my purse and looked all through the contents. Nope.
I noted that I had some stamps among the gift cards, extra cash, etc., that I stored in this pocket. That was good; I wanted to send a birthday card to a penpal. Then I stuffed it all back in the and I’m sure I closed, or mostly closed, the zipper.
When we got to the bookstore Bob went to check out the latest books and I went to the cards. Of course I carried my purse in, also a clipboard with a notepad, but that’s all I had in my hands. I selected a card and purchased it, then went to the coffee nook to get myself a coffee.
Because the place was almost deserted, I set my purse on a nearby table, opened the main zipper and took out my wallet. I was the only customer standing at the till; nearby one young lady was sitting on an upholstered chair reading or writing. I bought my coffee — had to wait a bit as the server was rather distracted — and sat down to write.
I pulled my address book out and addressed the envelope; by then Bob had come to join me. Then I reached into that zippered compartment, which was unzipped now, to find those stamps again, pulled out the misc gift cards & notes — and I found a passport!
I don’t own a passport in the first place; in the second, the owner’s picture is on the first page and I don’t have a CLUE who she is.
It was large for the compartment but it was inside. Bob suggested maybe it was lying on the counter and I must have picked it up along with my coffee. But how would it get inside that pocket? I had to have put it there, or someone else did.
He wondered when I might have gotten it, but I’d just gone through everything in that pocket on the way there. The tables around had been, and were still, deserted except for that one young lady.
Still flustered, I gave it to the server at the coffee bar and she took it to the store cashier, but this really puzzled me. Other people’s passports don’t suddenly appear in one’s purse. Was some spritely spirit messing with my mind?
My husband was nonchalant about it. “Well, they’ll take care of it and get it back to its rightful owner.”
I said, “How would you feel if you reached into your shirt pocket and found a checkbook and it belonged to someone you didn’t know.”
In fact, a man might well pick up something from a counter absent-mindedly and stuff it in his pocket , but I couldn’t unzip this compartment and tuck a passport inside without some thought. Besides, folks don’t leave their passports casually lie around (though it could have fallen out of a purse.)
And that’s the only conclusion I can come to: it fell out of some other lady’s purse, whoever sat at the table earlier. That young lady sitting and reading must have seen a passport lying on the floor under my table and decided it was mine so she picked it up and tucked it into that pocket, since my purse was open. Then when I found it and rushed over to the counter with it, she decided to say nothing; it was being taken care of anyway.
What do you think? Had I not been so flabbergasted I might have asked.