They find their way back to me
I’ve got a reputation at the office. I’m known as the absent-minded kid; I tend to misplace notebooks and pens. I’ve forgotten books, jackets, glasses, and once, my purse at my office desk. Somehow, though, they all find their way back to me.
The other day, I left one of my two cellphones on the bookstore couch where I was reading a cookbook (Memories of Philippine Kitchens) while waiting for Ira, who was late as usual. I didn’t know that I lost my cellphone until after dinner, while we were having donuts for desserts, and I was looking for P’s number. We called my phone and I was expecting the worst - that it’s already turned off, that somebody has taken off the card and using the unit. Fortunately, somebody found the phone - it’s not a fancy one - and turned it over the security guard, who gave it to the night supervisor, who answered my call and told me to get the unit the next day. I signed a form and got the phone the next day. As an expression of my gratitude to the Good Samaritans, I gifted the bookstore people with a box of donuts. The supervisor refused to take it, saying it wasn’t necessary. But I told them, I insist. I couldn’t eat it anyway as I am a diabetic.