I lost my wallet

I lost my wallet last night. It is tiny, red and leather. Looks like a change purse, except it has 5 credit cards stuffed inside and sometimes five and one dollar bills. Last year we celebrated Ira's birthday the same way, and I lost one of my favorite earrings (I still have the other half, but it just looks good and useless in my jewelry box, which is really a fishing tackle box). Danny's is a fabulous bar, one of the best looking I've been to in Chicago (reminds me of nockspeil in in Madison). This bar is so dark and something about being there at night makes you excited and forget normal things, like wallets. Luckily I made it out of the bar with my shoes still on my feet.


I stopped by this afternoon to ask if they'd found my wallet. A good looking man unlocked the door for me as he conversated on a portable phone. He looked older and smart and he talked and he nodded for about 2 minutes and I wondered if I should sign language what I wanted or just wait. "I just clean the place" he said and ended the conversation. Yeah right...if Danny's had a danny this was him, except he looked like more of a Malcolm (I mean that in only the most flattering of ways).

You figure people who leave their wallets at bars are stupid right? They loose control and deserve to get killed or hung out to dry by identity theft cuz they don't know enough to keep their bill fold in their pocket even though all the cash in it has probably been converted to liquid asset and disappeared.

I'd think bar tenders and and owners would hate people who come into their place, or at the very least think very little of them after all the waste they've seen. But this owner was actually nice to me...he looked through the drawers behind the bar; made up stories about empty women's purses and even suggested I look in the bathroom. Danny's is so dark he had to grab a flash light as we went into the back parlor to search. He pulled up the benches and we found not a thing, if he was the cleaner he'd done a good job. I smiled and left.

The night before I had had dreams about canceling credit cards, and calling automated numbers to report something lost or stolen. I hadn't made my bed that morning in the rush and search for my wallet. I felt pretty powerless in the afternoon with no money. The only order I could create was making my bed. I found the red and gold leather change purse under my covers, blamed for bad dreams and other things.