This morning I drove north to a coffee shop in Houghton–5th and Elm (may it forever be immortalized in song and dance, as you will soon discover why) and ordered a coffee and cranberry biscotti.
Then set my big clunky red purse, covered with tiny mirrors, a gift from an Indian physical therapist earlier this year (see this story if you’ve forgotten) on the floor. An inner voice warned me, “Now don’t you DARE forget that purse!”
I then unpacked Ms. Ellie, the laptop computer from the backpack, retrieved the mouse and waited for the Internet signal before typing a lengthy almost 900 word blog (which you may or may not eventually read) while delightedly sipping coffee and inadvertently tossing biscotti crumbs to and fro.
I even forgot who I was for maybe a half hour. That’s how engrossed and delighted I was in the writing.
In the midst of this la-de-da Saturday blogging ecstasy another table opened up. A table which offered a plug to revive Ms. Ellie, the laptop computer, in case she decided to die. She’s been ill in fits and spurts, thanks for all your condolences in advance.
Today her Shockwave player crashed. So she tells me. I am refusing to think that it’s anything serious, but you never know.
Anywho, I moved everything from one table to the next, plugged in the gasping computer, and proceeded to disappear into the World of Writing for another half hour.
Until. A nice young man traipsed forward from the front of the coffee shop, bless his immortal soul, carrying MY PURSE.
“Is this yours?” he inquired.
“YES!” I croaked, immediately remembering who I was.
“A customer found this and brought it up to the counter,” the immortalized young man said. “I looked inside at ID, but someone thought it might belong to you.”
“YES!” I exclaimed, “Thank you SO much!”
“Did you come in and then leave?” he asked.
“No,” I sighed. “I moved tables and forgot to move the purse.”
“Ahhh,” he nodded, and I nodded, and counted my dollar bills and checked to see if the credit cards all remained and, yes, there ARE kind people on the planet, thank all the kind-hearted souls who return purses and Do Not Steal.
This is the second kind incident of the week. On Thursday I bought $2.40 worth of groceries and discovered I only had $1.80, shame on me. Preparing to drag out the VISA and pay that tiny bill, a kind lady–bless her immortal soul–pulled out a $1.00 bill and gave it to me.
“Oh, thank you!” I gushed. “I hope you’re given what you need at a time like this.”
“I have been,” she said, “many times. That’s why I’m giving back.”
Thank you, Lady of the Infinite $1.00 bill and the Kind Customer who returned the Many-Mirrored Indian Purse.
I shall remember the favor. I’ll pass it along–I promise.