By Ian Hochberg
Fairy dust is real, Maybe.
While visiting my daughter in NYC recently, I dropped my bank card on 34th street between Park & Lexington one night.
It was found by someone who might have known better, yet didn’t act that way.
They quickly debited a monthly subway pass with it, which I found out following morning when my bank told me what happened.
PIN numbers aren’t required for this kind of transaction. Maybe the NYC MTA will correct this flaw someday.
Within 20 minutes of it’s loss, I noticed my card was gone.
In the ever-widening Black hole of “Oy Vey”, I went out to retrace my steps, a bit too late.
Once done, I stood near my daughter’s apartment building, unknowing, if in a well rested morning, the lost card would appear from it’s innocent, out in the open hiding place, kept so well concealed by panic.
Meanwhile, an unknown, pure hearted and lovely young woman, a tenant in the building next door, approached me and asked with a smile not to be denied “Can you open this for me?” …. a pickle jar.
… and so was born the best live action definition of “random”…
She was soon enjoying Vlasic’s classic dills, and I went from being a hero to an anxious victim, amazed how G-d brings silliness to dire events.
As despair and thankfulness traded places, fairy dust fell on me in a one man veiled shower, on an otherwise steam bathy, Cat on a Hit Tin Roof, night.
And as if this wasn’t enough ……
After several days, as shock became defeated acceptance, I arrived back home on an overdue, galloping bus. After I got off, and as it was about to leave the curb towards its final destination, I realized my $100 Bluetooth was still onboard … And there the device stayed, to become either garbage or a gift.
While Some Things are lost, others are found and Life goes forward …..
One truth remains throughout: pickles will always have the last word,
and the last crunch.