Last weekend something unexpected happened. I lost my wallet. Not just a wallet but the new wallet I stalked on the Kate Spade website for 2 months. Here’s what happened:
I was preparing to head to the seaport. It was a Saturday and a cool 93 degrees. I was meeting my boyfriend and his family to celebrate his mother’s 60th birthday. Feeling highly motivated to head to the waterfront, I carefully packed my handbag with the essentials: chapstick, wallet, keys, phone/earbuds and book (Where’d You Go, Bernadette?). I was ready to go!
Once on the T, I put my CharlieCard in my wallet and took out my book. I haven’t read for pleasure in a while so this was a real treat. It wasn’t long before the train arrived at Government Center and the train emptied. Not thinking too clearly, I jumped on a train to North Station. The heat had melted my brain. Oops. Once I emerged from the underground, I took out my phone and tried to track down my boyfriend. They were on a whale watch and I was to meet them at the dock by the aquarium. I had 2 voicemails. One from a friend and the other from a Boston area code. I put my phone back in my bag. “Voicemails” I thought, “ gross”.
After a few blocks, I took out my phone and called my boyfriend. They were running late. Super. I looked at the voicemails again and figured I should listen to them instead of ignoring them for days (as per usual). The second message (from the Boston area code) was very strange. I could barely understand the woman. Her thick accent and erratic rate of speech left me puzzled. I could only understand three words: Rachel, police, now. “What?!” I yelped stopping dead in my tracks. Police!
No no, this must be a scam. Someone is trying to trick me. Why would the police call me? That’s stupid. I called the number back and the same voice was on the other end. “Hello, Who is this?” I asked. “Is this Rachel Kinkos?” she asked. “No, this is Rachel Kindos K_I_N_D_O_S” I replied (trying not to be a bitch. But really folks, it’s not that hard to sound out.) “Yeah, yeah. I have your wallet. Come to the police station,” she said quickly and hung up. What the fuck lady!? Which station? Where in the station? How do I know you’re not going to kidnap me? No, really. How do I know you’re not a kidnapper? Or an international organ stealer? Or someone who sells woman and children on the back market? After checking my bag and confirming that I did not have my wallet, I called her back and got the address. “Hurry up. I have prisoners” she told me. Umm.. okay…this was going to be interesting.
I hailed a cab and explained the situation. He drove me to 40 Sudbury St and I hopped out. “Don’t run away” said the driver. “I don’t run” I replied as a wattled away. The police station was not what I imagined. Benson and Stabler didn’t greet me on the steps. Dexter Morgan wasn’t on a coffee break at the food cart. Where was Lennie Briscoe? I walked in and found no one. “Hello? Hello?” my voice echoed. I called the number again and the lady answered. Within minutes she appeared with my wallet! “Can you tell me what’s inside the wallet?” she inquired from behind very thick glass. I went on to tell her in ridiculous detail about the contents of my beautiful, blue wallet. She handed it over and remarked at how lucky I was. I asked her how she got my phone number because it was not in the wallet. “I called the number on your AAA card and told them I was with BPD. They had your cell number,” she went on “I’m surprised they didn’t take your money. Cash in a wallet! No way you’d see that again.” I asked if there was contact info to say thank you to the person who turned it in. She said no and I left.
I got back in the cab and headed to the Aquarium. How did this just happen? I got off the T at Government Center at 5:30. Got to North Station at 5:40. Walked for a bit. Listened to the message and went to the police station at 5:50. I lost and retrieved my wallet in 20 minutes, in Boston, on a Saturday!
Lately things have been more on the blah side. I haven’t had many things work out so I was starting to think that the universe was against me. But no! This was an incredible reminder that people will do the right thing. The Wallet story will the perfect anecdote to demonstrate just how fucking fabulous Boston really is.