My parents still give me a card on Valentine’s Day. Inside the card are typically either money or lottery scratch-offs.
This year, the lottery scratch-offs were winners for a total of $15.
I planned to stop at the grocery store on the way home from their house to pick up odds and ends and cash the tickets. As usual, laziness overtook my body, and I just went straight home.
This time, I was thankful for laziness.
The next day, I went to a small convenience store near my house to cash in the tickets and pick up my one major vice these days – an energy drink. I bought three more scratchers with the winnings and the drink.
As I’m paying for the drink, the young kid standing behind me in line – maybe in his early 20s – said, “Hey, dude, is that your money on the floor?”
I look down to find a folded up $20 next to my foot. I pick it up, look at him and look and the money, and answered, “no, it’s not.”
The first thought that pops into my head is that the kid spotted the cash and could have kept his mouth shut, waited until I left the store, picked it up, and found himself $20 richer. He didn’t. He thought I dropped it and wanted to help me out.
I started to hand him the money. Fair is fair. Finders keepers. “You spotted this,” I said, “you should…”
“How about the money next to your other foot?” he asked.
Another $20 bill.
I turned to the woman behind the counter, who just shrugged and then back to the kid.
He enthusiastically agreed.
Each bill came with a little bit of karma.
Maybe even for the person suddenly out $40.
In other news, my kids really didn’t want any more of their bacon.
It was a good weekend.
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