Lost and Found

I found a $20 bill the other night, lying on the filthy, bird-doo-stained concrete concourse at the Greyhound Bus Station.  A friend and I were just leaving a dinner meeting which was held at a great restaurant which is unfortunately located in one of the seediest, smelliest and most depressing areas in Sacramento.

An embarrassment to any and all of the City's governing pols or 'crats, the intersection at 8th and K consists of a gaping hole in the ground, the Darth Vader Building looming loopily onto K Street, obsolete before they were installed light rail cars whizzing noisily past and a handful of businesses struggling to put their best foot forward with no help from the City, thank you.

There was no parking on 8th or K so to get to the public lot on 7th near the entrance to the Downtown Cowtown Mall we had to go through the Greyhound Bus Depot because the alley next to our restaurant was gated and chained shut at 7th Street.  "More of the City's brilliant planning," I thought.  "I see they're making it easy for us to get around in downtown Sacramento on a week night."

So that's why we were walking through the concourse when I spotted the $20.  At first I thought it might be fake; it was folded, as if to bait someone foolish enough to pick it up.  I looked around to see if anyone nearby might have dropped it, but the place was deserted except for a few homeless and hapless people propping up the walls to the Greyhound lounge and ticket counter.

Before my friend could snag it I bent down and slapped it into my purse, feeling only semi-guilty that someone less fortunate than I might have lost it.  I started to wonder if perhaps a student had dropped it, or a grandmother, just in for a visit to see her son's new baby.  Maybe it was a bus driver's or maybe it fell out of some hooker's bra.  The whole proposition felt a bit cootie-fied but then I reminded myself, all money is dirty.  Even the honestly earned and deserved cash.  It has been handled by thousands of unwashed hands.  It is funky, no matter where you find it.  Just be grateful for the gift.

As we rounded the corner, putting distance between ourselves, the buses and the waiting passengers, I turned to my friend and quipped, "Money comes to me easily and frequently."  We both laughed.  It was funny because this is a well-known mantra, one I have started to repeat, in hopes that it will become true.  A verbal talisman against my fear of loss and failing.  Like so many dreams in this life, you have to believe they are possible, have to visualize and invest positive energy in them.  What you put out there, you will receive.