This kind of good luck could turn you into a believer
Or restore your faith in humanity.
Yesterday I left my purse on the bus. Dumb, I know.
I was having a great day because my critique went really well and I had plans to do something fun in the evening, since Thursday is my Friday. I left school in the afternoon and stopped at Trader Joes to get some groceries. I caught my usual bus on Michigan avenue. While we were on Lake Shore Drive, my mom called. I got wrapped up in the conversation, and when the bus got to my stop, I got off, still on the phone, with my two bags of groceries and my school bag. I didn't realize I had left my purse on the seat until I got to my front door, about a block away. I dropped all my bags on the front step and ran back to Wilson to try to catch the bus. It was already three blocks away. I almost got hit by a car near walgreens, it was raining, and I was wearing my heavy coat and boots. So all factors were working against me getting my purse back. I tried to grab a cab, but by that point I was three blocks past Clark st. and there were no cabs to be found.
I was really bummed, but I told myself it would be fine, material possessions are replaceable. I still had my phone, and my new drivers license was sitting in the envelope on my desk, so there were two things I wouldn't have to replace.
But no, despite how I tried to comfort myself, I still sat on my front steps in the rain for fifteen minutes, sobbing, while I waited for my roommates to come home and let me in. Thinking of how I would have to replace everything (school ID, semester long train pass, new sunglasses, my favorite lipstick, two credit cards, keys, brand new wallet I bought in German town, the seven dollars I had in my wallet, my orla kiely bag that I love...) just made me so angry and frustrated, and I was frustrated with myself for losing something so important. Then I sobbed a little for my groceries, including a four pound chicken, that were getting soaked and no doubt spoiling.
So I got inside, called and canceled my credit cards, took a few shots of gin and tried to freshen up. Ted showed up. We had just opened our beers when my phone rang and I saw on the caller ID that it was Talia. This struck me as weird. I spend twelve hours a week with Talia because she is in my fashion core classes, so she rarely calls me.
"Gina, did you lose your purse on a bus?" My night just turned ridiculously good. Turns out the bus driver found my purse and turned it in to CTA lost and found. She found Talia's number written on a scrap of paper in my purse, so she called her so that I would know she had found it.
Amazing. I called the bus driver and told her I couldn't describe how grateful I felt and that she was an incredibly good person. "I try," she responded. Amazing.
And then my night was amazing. Amazing amazing amazing.
And this morning I went over to Kedzie and Van Buren, sketchiest of sketchy neighborhoods, and retrieved my purse. Everything was there, less $7 from my wallet. Which is fine with me, considering I would have been out $100+ in fees replacing all my stuff.
So this is the story that restores my faith in the good people of Chicago. Especially bus drivers.
Yesterday I left my purse on the bus. Dumb, I know.
I was having a great day because my critique went really well and I had plans to do something fun in the evening, since Thursday is my Friday. I left school in the afternoon and stopped at Trader Joes to get some groceries. I caught my usual bus on Michigan avenue. While we were on Lake Shore Drive, my mom called. I got wrapped up in the conversation, and when the bus got to my stop, I got off, still on the phone, with my two bags of groceries and my school bag. I didn't realize I had left my purse on the seat until I got to my front door, about a block away. I dropped all my bags on the front step and ran back to Wilson to try to catch the bus. It was already three blocks away. I almost got hit by a car near walgreens, it was raining, and I was wearing my heavy coat and boots. So all factors were working against me getting my purse back. I tried to grab a cab, but by that point I was three blocks past Clark st. and there were no cabs to be found.
I was really bummed, but I told myself it would be fine, material possessions are replaceable. I still had my phone, and my new drivers license was sitting in the envelope on my desk, so there were two things I wouldn't have to replace.
But no, despite how I tried to comfort myself, I still sat on my front steps in the rain for fifteen minutes, sobbing, while I waited for my roommates to come home and let me in. Thinking of how I would have to replace everything (school ID, semester long train pass, new sunglasses, my favorite lipstick, two credit cards, keys, brand new wallet I bought in German town, the seven dollars I had in my wallet, my orla kiely bag that I love...) just made me so angry and frustrated, and I was frustrated with myself for losing something so important. Then I sobbed a little for my groceries, including a four pound chicken, that were getting soaked and no doubt spoiling.
So I got inside, called and canceled my credit cards, took a few shots of gin and tried to freshen up. Ted showed up. We had just opened our beers when my phone rang and I saw on the caller ID that it was Talia. This struck me as weird. I spend twelve hours a week with Talia because she is in my fashion core classes, so she rarely calls me.
"Gina, did you lose your purse on a bus?" My night just turned ridiculously good. Turns out the bus driver found my purse and turned it in to CTA lost and found. She found Talia's number written on a scrap of paper in my purse, so she called her so that I would know she had found it.
Amazing. I called the bus driver and told her I couldn't describe how grateful I felt and that she was an incredibly good person. "I try," she responded. Amazing.
And then my night was amazing. Amazing amazing amazing.
And this morning I went over to Kedzie and Van Buren, sketchiest of sketchy neighborhoods, and retrieved my purse. Everything was there, less $7 from my wallet. Which is fine with me, considering I would have been out $100+ in fees replacing all my stuff.
So this is the story that restores my faith in the good people of Chicago. Especially bus drivers.