20 May

Was at the bank inside Stop & Shop a few hours ago. As the teller was completing my transaction, I was fumbling around with some pamphlet stand mindlessly like an ADHD weirdo (don’t worry, I can say that. I am an “ADD” sufferer). Lo and behold, there was a crisp 100 dollar bill behind it. The stand was bolted down, only like a centimeter from the wall, so I couldn’t get to the money with my fat fucking fingers. JK, actually my fingers are quite slim. Freakishly almost, but I have been told by my nana that they are “piano hands”. That’s elegant and feminine, right? Anyways, I don’t play the piano which means my hands are really just an anomaly, so I’m roughly 5 anomalies away from a mental defect. Back to the story: I get a pamphlet out of the stand and use it to push the hundy out. I stared at it. I really wanted to keep it. I didn’t want to do the right thing. God knew my intentions. But when the teller looked up, I half-heartedly held the bill out towards him. His manager was right behind him and took the money. He didn’t thank me, or give me a well deserved reward of $1,000 or more…he said “someone will be back for that” instead. But will someone be back for that, guy? Or will it sit in a safe in an envelope for a couple days until someone doesn’t return for it, and it becomes order out money for the Citizens bank crew next Friday. TGIF guys, pizza all around!!!!!!!

Instead of dwelling on my lack of reward, I felt lucky. I had returned money that was lost. Who cares if the boss had probably pocketed it for himself to purchase meth? I had done God’s work, and He must have some plans for me. I walked over from the bank to the customer service desk. The line was annoyingly long, because when aren’t lines annoying long? After 5 minutes of waiting, it was my turn and the cashier asked me what I needed. I pulled 5 bucks out of my bag and asked for any 5 dollar scratch ticket. She looked at the clock, then back at me. “The lottery station is closed. Sorry.”. “Oh”, I replied. I walked away feeling like shit. I thought when you returned $100 to Citizens Bank, that the money was supposed to come back to you 5 minutes later, multiplied by at least ten?

On the way home I caught a second wind. “PULL INTO 7-11!” I yelled to my husband, who was not driving. When I realized it was me who was driving, I swerved my car into the 7-11 parking lot. I marched in and bought that lucky scratch ticket. I marched back out, got back into my car, and scratched the ticket with a dime. It was a loser. But am I a loser????? NO! So I stormed back into that storefront and demanded the same scratch ticket. By “demanded” I mean I asked politely for a #19 while feeling slightly timid about maybe looking like a degenerate gambler (I wonder how real degenerate gamblers feel when they purchase multiple tickets consecutively? I guess I don’t really care actually). I go back to my car, again, and scratch the new ticket. Another loser. Which begs the question: is karma real?

The answer, which I learned for the 592rd time tonight, is that no: karma is not real. It’s a farce. But you know what would have happened if I hadn’t returned that 100 bucks? I’d have been walking away from the bank, and John fucking Quinones would have approached me with a camera yelling “HI I’M JOHN QUINONES FROM ABC’S SHOW ‘WHAT WOULD YOU DO’ AND IT LOOKS LIKE YOU’RE ABOUT TO STEAL THAT MONEY?”. Karma doesn’t exist, but shit luck does. Goddamn.

PS: Do you think I might have saved someone’s job by returning that $100? Because if so, that’s more “karma” and I’ll go out and play the Mega Bucks right now. Just need one person to say the word and I’ll do it.







One Response to “WWJQD?”

  1. William Tells All May 20, 2014 at 5:39 pm #

    FYI: Karma tends to focus more on payback for bad behavior than rewarding good behavior for reasons obvious: not only is such deserved, it’s a lot more fun to inflict.

    Oh, and the really annoying thing is that she takes SO long to show up to inflict what’s deserved for bad behavior that observers waiting for her to impose her will upon the deserving that they ALMOST feel sorry for the miscreants.

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