Today, on my way to meet with a City Bike story subject, I left my wallet on my lap as I was fuelling my bike; I usually don't get off my bike to gas it up. When I took off, the wallet stayed between my leg and the tank (I guess), and slid off...somewhere... I was passing Fruitvale on the 880-S when I realized my wallet wasn't making its comforting indentation in my right ass cheek (you in the back! Stop giggling!), and I pulled off the freeway to look for it...not in any of the 114 pockets of my Aerostich, not in my tankbag, not in my pants...oh Lord! Not again! Visions of numerous calls to credit-card companies, waits at the DMV and social security office...nooooooooooooooo!
So I rode the 8 miles abck to the gas station and asked around...have you seen my wallet? No. Have you seen my wallet? No. "Be sure to cancel your credit cards," said the clerk, helpfully. "Me and my family are homeless and living here, so we can keep an eye out," said the homeless guy.
Dejected, I rode home and reported my cards lost, found my passport (which doesn't expire for another year, luckily), and got back on my bike to go to the DMV. But on a whim, I checked the gas station again, carefully retracing my stepse. I then got on the same freeway onramp I had used before, thinking about my new race-compound rear tire, and how I should go easy through the turn. At the slower speeds, I was able to scan along the side of the road and...
A familiar blue rectangular shape among the debris! I rode to the top of the ramp, where there is a large shoulder, and parked. I hopped off the bike and ran the 40 yards down the ramp along the narrow elevated catwalk, running to the other side when I could see there were no cars coming for 75 yards.
Yes, there it was. Most everything had fallen aout and incredibly, was still scattered in a debris field for 10 yards along the low curbing. All my credit cards, some of my business cards, even a reciept or two. But no cash? Had somebody picked th ewallet up, stripped the moolah out and tossed the shell out the window?
Nope; 30 yards up the ramp a Twenty was resting against the opposite curb, and I think that was the sum of all the cash I had in there!
How lucky is that?