The power of stupidity outperformed by the power of kindness

Yesterday afternoon, Tina and I had an appointment with the gym.

That’s how we structure our week. If we don’t make an appointment, on our calendars, it’s easy to justify not working out.

On the way out the door, Tina made a check out to ourselves, to pay rent and miscellaneous bills. She also signed it and also signed two checks from two recent jobs.

“I should just take those, because I’ll likely be the one to deposit them,” I said as I passed through the room, dipping into my room stuffing gym shoes into my bag.

We were in a rush and I didn’t follow through.

Our gym isn’t close enough to walk to, so we drive more than not, especially when it’s cold. Nine months of the year, I’m able to run there.

In the car, Tina says, “Oh, the checks.” She removed them from her bag and started stuffing them in my coat pocket.

“That’s not a great idea,” I said. “Plus, you’re tickling me.” She stopped doing what she was doing, and the checks were perilously hanging out of my jacket.

Arriving at the gym, Tina jumped out of the car at the front door and I park the car nearby so that she can make sure she gets a place in her weight lifting class.

I drove a little south, turned on Belmont, found a quick spot, and parallel parked. I got out of the car, paid for parking, slid the voucher onto the dash and headed inside the gym, forgetting about depositing the checks at an ATM across the street.

In the locker room, I started to get undressed. “The checks!” I thought. When I reached in my coat pocket searching for the checks. They were gone.

Gone!

I packed up my shit, threw my coat back on and ran out the door. I ran up and down the street searching for paper floating around.

The goddamn things were signed! I panicked. My mind raced with what we needed to do if those things were lost.

I was distraught, pissed and crazed.

I went back in the gym, and retraced my steps again, asking the front if they had anyone return anything that looked like checks, signed, for a good amount of money.

Nope.

I ran to Tina’s class. She saw me reflected in the mirror, my face flush. She turned and ran out of the room. “What’s up?”

“The checks are GONE!”

We both ran out the door and I retraced my steps in the gym again. We went out the door, and walked back to the car. On my way, my phone rang with a local number that wasn’t saved to my contacts. I picked up. “Are you calling about finding some checks on the street?” I asked, without even waiting for the reason for the call.

“Yes, yes, I am,” the voice on the phone said. “It’s for are two five productions. To one Jeremy White Even.”

“That’s me!” I said. “Where are you?”

The guy explained he had one check and he was at Chipotle. He told me he parked across from my car, and he found the check in the snow.

I ran out the door. Tina and I were running at each other and saw the two other checks at the exact same time.

They were dirty and snowy, but we FOUND THEM!

I ran back to Chipotle, gave the guy $20, forced it on him really. He protested, and I said, “Man, I gotta do it. I have to reward good and honest behavior. Let me buy you lunch.”

He took it. And Tina and I breathed a HUGE sigh of relief.

Then I deposited the checks at the ATM, clogging it with the broken and torn checks, rendering the ATM unusable by the next person.

But at least we found them. 🙂