Kindness is its own reward? Yeah, right
Ifound a wallet in a small town carpark last year. I looked at the cash and credit cards inside, hesitated (what do readers think of that?), then handed it in to the local police. They wrote down my contact details and said they’d let me know if it was claimed.
It was. They rang the next week to tell me they’d had an anxious call. “The owner’ll be getting in touch,” they said.
The owner didn’t. What do readers think of that?
I talked about it a few more weeks later to a group of friends who’d also found similar objects and handed them in.
“The cops asked what I wanted done with the cash if it wasn’t claimed,” said Friend A. “Told me I could either have it or donate it to one of the charities on their list. I said I’d go 50/50.”
“They asked me the same,” went Friend B. “I told them I’d like 30 bucks at least, to cover the time and petrol it took me taking it in to them.” What do readers think of . . . those? Friend C sympathised with me. “Wouldn’t happen in Auckland,” he said. (Yes, he was from that fine city.) “Everyone I know who’s found something like that and handed it in — the owner’s rung them up to say thanks, offered them a reward even.” What do readers think of etc, etc?
Well, shame on you for your cynicism. Because when we were in the said fair city just a fortnight back, I found a purse, left in the waiting area on the ferry wharf at Devonport. A plump purse, with quite a lot of assets in it. Again, I handed it in. Doing so was my first indication of what an honest lot Aucklanders indeed were, because I couldn’t find a police station till we got to Takapuna, and even then it was only a Community Office. I won’t ask what readers think of that.
We’d been home for a few days when the Takapuna police rang. They’d also had an anxious phone call. And an owner who would be getting in touch. Prejudiced provincial that I am, I muttered the words from a Tui beer billboard slogan.
My Friend C would have shaken his head in disapproval. And he’d have been right, because within 24 hours, the phone rang again. “I’m XY from Auckland,” said the caller. “You the one who found my purse at the Devonport ferry wharf?”
I agreed that I was. In my inappropriately hardened heart, I rejoiced that someone had the courtesy to call. I prepared to decline any reward. “I’m so glad you got it back — ” I began.
“Yeah, well,” went XY. “There was a supermarket gift card in it. Still had nearly $90 on it, and it’s missing. You sure it wasn’t in the purse when you picked it up?”
So what do readers think of THAT?