Lost and Found

My Visa Card — July 4, 2011

In downtown Portland this Thursday, I finally found a parking spot on Salmon, not too far from my destination — the Hilton.  I don’t mind walking, but I was anxious to get registered at my conference and help out at the ice breaker as promised.  I insert my Visa card in that newfangled “meter.” Okay, I put it again, turn it around and leave in it longer; no, pull it out quicker.  Fine, done!  Get the receipt — did you notice they changed those receipts?  No more peel away.  Then what do you do with them?  How attach them? I open the car door — double-check:  I’m on a one-way street; which window does the receipt go?  Right, shove it into the gap between the window and — I don’t have a gap!  Fine.  There, it’s staying.  Shove the card into the purse and zip it.  Purse bulging too much to easily zip fully.  Fine, zip a little, that will do for now.  Get on with it.  I have the light; cross the street now!

Trotting to the hotel (why did I wear these black strappy wedges that dig into my feet?), I fully zip up my small-but overflowing purse, first double-checking my credit card is in its correct place.  The purse is purposefully too small to hold a redundant wallet; I use the convenient built-in side compartments for my cards.  Er . . . where is the Visa card?  Must be smashed between all those receipts from Fred Meyer and Albertsons.  Oh, and the old receipts from Kohl’s.  The Bally’s membership card, the NYC metro card (why am I still carrying that?), the two Starbucks cards (practical gold member card plus the sentimental first card I ever got, Seattle 2004), the Safeway card, the Costco card (though really, shouldn’t I be boycotting them?), the bank debit card . . . fine . . . I’ll look for Visa later, or I’ll be spilling my cards on the street.  I wait until I’m in the Hilton ballroom to empty contents on a table, and pick through, relic by forgotten relic. 

You know where this is going.  My Visa is not in the purse, nor is it in my tote (I need a tote because my purse is small so I will carry less and be more efficient — and stylish!).   An hour later, I have to move the car (must pay through 7:00 pm now!); time is running out on the “meter” (it’s just a slip of paper!).  I trace my steps back and forth, looking for a pearl gray card against gray sidewalks.  Nothing, of course.

Once home, I check my Visa account online.  No strange charges.  Relief!  I can go into denial about this, at least until my monthly automatic electronic payments start bouncing. Ugh.  That will be a mess.  I will deal with this, definitely.  Tomorrow.

But 9:00 pm, an unidentified caller is on my phone.  Peggy and her husband found my Visa  on Salmon Street after they parked their car.  “It was right on the edge of the curb, by my parked car, by the car door.”  Peggy called Visa, but they wouldn’t call me for her.  She looked in the hard copy of the Portland phone book, and found someone with my initials — no address, but my initials.  (But wasn’t I unlisted?  I thought I was unlisted?  I recycle those books without checking anymore, so who knew I was in there again!)  She would come by and give me my card, or yes, of course, I can pick it up at her place. 

Just five minutes away.  Before the Starbucks automatic renewal bounced.  Before the Comcast automatic Visa payment bounced.  Before the Bally’s gym electronic payment bounced. Before the Verizon, the Quest, the . . .

Thank you Peggy.  Thank you Lost and Found forces of the universe, for finding a kind person to find my card.

Just once thing — do I post this just in my Lost and Found journal, or in my Synchronicity journal, too?

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 Missing in Portland (or, My Blog is a Milk Carton) — Ongoing

I stumbled across these lost-and-found signs, posted around Portland, Oregon, over months of neighborhood walks.  None of these souls have been reunited with their loved ones yet, as far as I know.  The signs first serve as information posts, then become pleas for help, and later morph into memorials as their messages and paper age and fade.  Here is the link to see the signs — Missing in Portland.

Perhaps you have seen any of these lost souls? 

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