The
other week I was biking to the regional library to go see if a “museum pass”
was in for when my friends and their kids visited, and as I started to pedal
after being stopped at one intersection, I saw a $5 bill lying in the crosswalk
of the less busy road in the intersection.
I
stopped and picked it up; the bill was a bit moist because recent rain had left
the pavement wet, but I folded it in two and slipped it in my pocket and
figured that the dry fabric there would siphon off the moisture and make it
usable.
That
kind of thing very very rarely happens to me.
In fact,
I can’t even remember the last time that something like that happened.
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