I love bags with multiple pockets, each dedicated as the storage space for something specific. Main pocket for wallet and coin purse; mid-size pocket for phone and keys; mini pocket for lip balm and hair elastic; side pocket for earphones and tissues.
I hate the feeling of panic when I can't find something in its dedicated space. The first thought that flickers through my mind is if it's not here, where could it possibly be? Almost always I end up finding it again. I say almost always because there was one particular month, October of 2015, when I had some especially bad luck. Or especially good luck, as it turned out.
There was a lot going on that month. On the weekend of our family reunion (the first to take place in Toronto) I made a quick trip down to Chinatown to pick up tasty baked goods as part of the lunch planned at my uncle's house. I parked the car on Queen Street by Spadina and didn't get more than five feet away when I noticed my cell phone was not in my bag. I returned to the car, certain that I had left it in the cupholder and wanted to retrieve it so it didn't lie in plain view. It wasn't there either. Strange, because I knew it had been in the car with me. I had actually used it before starting my drive to look something up. I did a quick once-over of the seats and the floor but came up with nothing. Surely it had just fallen into a crack somewhere in the car so I made off for the bakery, not wanting to be late for lunch.
Once I arrived at my uncle's house I immediately asked to borrow his phone to call my cell and headed back to the car. I dialed my number. I perked up my ears to listen for the ring. And then I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a man's voice on the other line. For a split second I pictured a man in the backseat of my car with my cell phone to his ear.
"Who is this??" I barked into the phone. It turned out that my phone was (you've guessed by now) not in my car but instead (you'll never guess) with security at a shopping mall blocks away from my house. I was baffled, almost stuttering incoherently into the phone as my brain couldn't process the information. Had I been at the mall earlier that day this could have been plausible. But I hadn't; I had only left my house for Chinatown and then come straight to my uncle's house for lunch. It made no sense.
Finally the security guard explained that the person who turned it in said they had been on Queen street and found the phone by the sidewalk. They were headed for the shopping mall and decided to leave it with security. That explanation was crazy to me. But I was extremely relieved my phone was found, and what's more I could pick it up from security at a mall that is conveniently located ten minutes from my house. Far better than meeting a stranger in an unknown location to retrieve it.
Not too weeks later (as I said, it was a busy month) I was returning from a week-long trip working a tradeshow in Las Vegas. It was a late flight home and I was looking forward to getting home as quickly as possible. My brother picked me up from the airport but not before having his car die in the passenger pick-up zone of the airport while waiting for me to clear customs. I called CAA with my membership and after a quick boost we were on our way.
The next morning after breakfast I was set to leave the house with my son when I couldn't find my wallet on our way out. I checked my purse, my backpack, my luggage. Nowhere to be found. My mind started racing - had I left it in Vegas? At the airport? When was the last time I saw it?? Then I remembered that I had used my CAA membership the previous night and so the wallet had at least made it as far as my brother's car. That was somewhat of a relief , and I could picture myself sitting in the passenger seat holding my wallet on the ride home rather than stuffing it safely back into my purse.
Just then, literally seconds after realizing my wallet was missing, I heard the soft clang of our mailbox lid closing at the front door. It wasn't even 9am yet so I knew it was too early for the postman. I sprinted for the front door and threw it open, startled to see a large man with a crossing guard or construction worker type vest walking down our porch steps. He spun around quickly, also startled. I opened the mailbox to see my wallet while the man started to explain that some girls had found it on the sidewalk while walking to school but were too afraid to return it. Somehow they passed it on to this man who must have looked at my driver's license and confirmed my address.
I honestly could not believe my good fortune. Two very important items had been lost within weeks of each other and both had been found and retrieved within an hour. I did end up calling the banks to confirm nothing had been put on my credit cards overnight (nothing was) and received replacement cards in the mail. Just in case. It made me almost feel ashamed to think the worst of people when I had just witnessed the best in people but I wanted to be safe.
So it was with much pleasure when I was able to return the favour to some unlucky stranger earlier this year. While crossing the street towards our local community centre I happened to catch a glimpse of something shiny in the middle of the road. By the time it had registered that it was a set of keys on the ground we were already on the other side of the busy intersection. I waited for the lights to turn green again and went back across the road to retrieve the keys. There were probably four or five keys all dangling from a simple keychain. Fortunately there was also a tag (with barcode/membership number) for Planet Fitness which was located close by. From the community centre I called the gym to inform them one of their members had lost their keys. I asked them to kindly call the person, who might have been in their own state of panic at that moment, and let him or her know I would be dropping off the keys to the gym later that morning.
Then I made a mental note to go home and immediately dig out the War Amps key tag which had been sitting in an envelope for the past few months.
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