I woke up Monday pretty hungover. My roommate had President’s Day off; I did not but of course I don’t need to be at work first thing in the morning. And with our opposite schedules and my weekend travels, I hadn’t seen much of him. So on Sunday night we decided to go out as if it was a Saturday.
Of course for me, it was still Sunday. And I was reminded of that Monday morning… OK, afternoon. I checked my phone, gathered a few belongings and made my way out the door so I could run a few errands. Before I left, I grabbed the jeans from the previous night so I could retrieve my wallet.
It wasn’t there.
As I began retracing my steps from Sunday night, I remembered something: when I first looked at my phone, there was a missed call from Soho House. I definitely didn’t end up there; my hazy evening was contained to our apartment and the East Village. So why did Soho House call me? Did someone find my wallet and attempt to use my membership card? Did my Uber see the wallet in the backseat and return it there?
I called the front desk but none of the staff working at the moment were there the following night and no notes were left. The missed call was chalked up to a mistake.
Something didn’t seem right about this but I continued on with my day as best I could; thank goodness for phone apps, mobile pay and a couple of friends. By about 4 pm though, nothing panned out, so I began the process of replacing cards that were in the wallet. I emailed our HR representative for a new building swipe tag and then emailed Soho House to inform them that I would need my membership card replaced.
I think that email jogged someone’s memory. At about 5 pm I received a voicemail from Soho House. A woman named Dolores had been calling since last night claiming she found my wallet and wanted to return it. The person left her number and advised me to get in touch with her as soon as possible.
Turns out Dolores works the night shift around the corner from my apartment at a hotel. She was walking to work Sunday night and happened to look down at the intersection where I live; there was my wallet on the ground. She saw my Driver’s License and the Soho House card and went to work.
After my show Monday night, I went to the hotel and met Dolores, and boy did she lay in to me (and with good reason). She interrogated me as to what I was doing the night before and gave a stern warning to be more careful with my belongings.
If you’re wondering, yes I did reward Dolores for her good deed.
Sure, it’s nice to have my wallet. But it’s nicer to know that there are still kind, genuine people in the world like Dolores. I hope you get a chance to meet someone like her too, but hopefully under better circumstances.