People certainly don't make it easy to be a good samaritan sometimes.
Ever since I left the flat, CRAZY SHIT HAS GONE DOWN. It started with getting to the diner where I was meeting Coworker M for lunch, only to discover that she had messaged me an hour earlier on my phone (the message didn't download till I was sitting in the diner). She said she was feeling awful and did I want to come over to her place for lunch instead?
I messaged back with definite lulz, and told her I was at the diner and did she want me to bring her lunch? No reply. So, I finished my cocoa, paid for it, wandered around Belmont for a while, got bored, and messaged her that I was going home and I hoped she felt better. I'm not at all annoyed (I hope she gets that), since I wanted to poke around some of Belmont's shops anyway.
What is a trifle weird is that while I was poking around said shops, I ran into one of my other coworkers, Coworker S, who I run into ALL THE DAMN TIME, I don't know why. Seriously, a few weeks ago I scared the crap out of her by appearing out of nowhere on Michigan Avenue and punching her affectionately in the arm. She thought she was being mugged. EVEN MORE LULZ.
So we said hi, but she had to run to copy some resumes and I was headed the opposite direction to the El, making it a fairly brief hello. I got on the train just fine, and when I got off at my stop, randomly, there was a purse on the platform. Sitting all alone. Forlorn. Abandoned. I was seriously the only person on the platform, since north and southbound trains had both just pulled away.
I picked it up but I didn't want to look like I was pawing through it for money, so I carried it downstairs and went to the attendant's booth. "Excuse me," I said, "I found this on the platform, can I turn it in?"
"Is there anything in it?" she asked.
"I don't know, I didn't look."
She took out a brown tag and handed it to me through the little change slot. "Go through the purse and fill this out."
I looked at the tag. It had a place for my name and address on one side. On the other, I was supposed to give the location where I found it, the amount of money inside, and a complete inventory of the purse.
That's a bit strange, isn't it? I mean I suppose it's some kind of liability thing, but you would think the CTA wouldn't want to make random, unknown passengers go through other peoples' belongings and inventory them when they're just trying to turn it in to the lost and found and go on their merry way.
Fortunately there wasn't much in it; double-fortunately for its owner, there was an ID tag and a set of keys. Hopefully the CTA will contact its owner and let her know that they have her keys and made some strange man sort through her purse to find them.
As if that wasn't weird enough, walking home down the alleyway I kicked a lump of snow idly and OUT CAME A DOG. Not a real dog, mind you, a stuffed McDonald's toy dog about the size of my hand, but still. THAT IS A BIT STRANGE. I thought it was a dead squirrel at first.
Anyway, I kept the dog, because, random dog in alleyway, and I have washed him off and put him on my radiator to dry. Suggestions for names welcome, otherwise he gets named Toffee 'cause that's the scent of the soap I washed him with.
What the hell, you guys. It's like I have my own personal Bermuda triangle following me around. I'm going to go take a nap and when I wake up the world had better be normal again OR I had better have some kind of finding-things superpower.
Commentary post-hack: I think that last remark may have been the origin of Jack Baker from the Hiatus Continuations....
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