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Help Is A New York Minute Away, Part 2

, , , , | Hopeless | March 4, 2017

I moved to New York City for graduate school immediately after graduating college. Less than a week after moving in, I go out for a walk and realize, when I get home, that I have lost my wallet. I had it in my back pocket and it must have fallen out. As dusk falls, I go out retracing my steps, searching for it, questioning my competence as a so-called independent adult.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes with an email alert from my school. Someone has found my wallet — complete with student ID. I’m not sure exactly what the process is, but my school apparently has some arrangement with the police, so the school sent me an email telling me my wallet was safely in a police cruiser at a nearby intersection.

I go to find the police car, practically limp with relief. Nothing is missing. Someone else had found my wallet and given it to them, and apparently, they had been able to contact me through my school — everything safely restored in less than an hour.

I know the stereotypes about New Yorkers, but there were a lot of steps in that system where people had to be thoughtful, observant, and helpful for that to work!

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