Monday, July 27, 2015

No Wallet. No Escape.

image via

This was months and months and MONTHS ago, but it was pretty dang funny so I figured I should preserve it as a "DC memory" to look back at.

Some close friends had come to DC for a wedding and a baby shower for another set of close friends. For the night of the wedding we got the privilege of watching their wonderful daughter for the evening. They had left to run some errands and see DC sites that they missed and I had set out on a last minute effort to get a baby shower gift. I drove out to Pentagon City mall (yuck- DC malls suck) ran into Nordstrom and efficiently picked out an adorable outfit and blanket. Stepping up to the cash register I reached into my bag and started feeling around.

Like most women I carry a bag large enough that I could pretend to be Mary Poppins without the ruffle collar. It quickly dawned on me, that my bag was much lighter than normal. Low and behold- no wallet.

Panic rose through my body, sweaty hands, racing heart and I mumbled something to the cashier about my wallet being in my car.

But I knew it wasn't.

It was at my apartment. Sitting on my desk.

*face palm emoji*

I took my keys out of my car turned it on and then skidded to an abrupt stop where I uttered some curse words at the realization that I was trapped. I couldn't leave the parking garage! Thanks to DC's shitty parking and overcrowding I guess nowhere thinks letting you have a free 30 minutes in a garage is fair. Short two dollars to escape (I didn't even have enough money in change from my car or bottom of my purse), I called for help.

Meanwhile, our friends had returned back to the apartment and had delivered their child into our hands for the evening, so no way could N come help. Some friends who lived in VA close by offered to come rescue me, but then I still couldn't get the baby gift I had picked out, and I was honestly...embarrassed.

Luckily, I magically had my metro cards on me. So what did I do? I rode 35 minutes back into the city, grabbed my wallet, quickly said "hi" to our babysitting charge and then metroed back out to the mall. To ease the pain, my friends who offered to rescue me went to the mall for their own errands and I got to see them, grab a beer and lament my wasted evening.

Only 257 hours later I got to head home, able to pay for my parking and with a baby gift purchased. Success! Fail.

No Comments Yet, Leave Yours!