Losing My New Wallet On The Train (Part 1)

Where Did My Wallet Go

Pandemonium has ensued for the last two and a half hours of my night, for one of the most dreaded events of fateful mishaps, losing your wallet. Jumping off the train today at Campbelltown I opened up my carry bag in hopes of finding my brand new ‘Jag’ wallet but was surprised when my hand couldn’t grasp such an object. Hoping that I didn’t leave it at work in which the cleaners would pack around it like vultures, I extensively searched my bag upon sitting down as well as myself.

Alarms started to sound in my mind as I couldn’t find it in any crevasse of my bag or my pockets and with no money or identification, I was stuck at the station. Having sat down at my bus-stop to initially look for my wallet I turned to some guy also in work clothes and asked if he could grant me money for the phone. Advising him of my horrible misfortune he handed me the money with no problems and as soon as it hit my hand I jogged towards the payphones.

Ringing my extension at work in hopes that someone would pick it up elsewhere who was working overtime I had no such luck so with that disappointment and anxiety running through my mind I called the best alternative, dad. Having called dad to give me a lift from the station I made my way up to wait for his arrival and in that time I tried to trace my steps in order to recall where last I left my wallet. Despite the fact that I can record every tiny little detail in this diary the stress of remembering had me confused as to when I had hold of it last.

The last I remembered of holding my wallet was when I bought a drink just coming up from lunch and I gathered that I either put the wallet in my bag in which it fell out somehow or I left it on the side of the computer. Spotting another guy standing and waiting around near me I gained enough courage to walk up and ask if he could also help me out with some money for the phone. At the time he didn’t have money on him at all as he was waiting to pick up a lady.

A Stranger With Spare Change

“My car is parked all the way up the street” he remarked but as I thanked him for his help anyway he uttered “If you stick around until my friend arrives we can walk to my car and I’ll get you some money for the phone”. People have really come a long way in being pleasant and I will now go out of my way just that little bit more to be helpful to people despite my being compassionate regardless.

As this man’s friend arrived he urged me to walk along with him, staying behind and trying not to intervene or be painted as a nuisance. Before she arrived I just had some small talk with him as he told me he worked at Bankstown and how I hoped my wallet was at work.

Making our way to the car he took out his mobile phone and asked if I would prefer using that but I knew it would cost him much more than using a payphone so I opted for the measly amount for a phone call. “Don’t worry” I said to him “I really don’t want to inconvenience you in any way” but despite my bids he gave me the money for the phone anyway.

Phoning Work

Heading back quickly to a public phone upstairs at the station I called through to a different line at work apart from mine. I thought at the time if memory serves me correct that it was Jana’s number and I gathered that if anyone was working back, Jana would be it. As the phone rang I was ecstatic when Shayma picked up the phone after a couple of rings but I was still anxious as to whether my wallet would be at work still. Informing her of my little quandary she gasped at the thought of my losing personal possessions and quickly headed over to my desk to check.

In my mind I was wishing that she would somehow find my wallet but I knew when she came back how her answer would be “Sorry Tony, I looked everywhere and in draws but I couldn’t find it”. Fearing that hope was lost I told Shayma that I would be home soon and that I would call back work in hopes that she found it lying around somewhere. However, when I called back Shayma the phone rang out but I was not in dire straits at the time of my call.

Retracing My Steps

My next course of action after speaking to Shayma on the phone was to head up and wait for my dad and within seconds he had arrived. “How was your day” he asked me as I jumped in the car and I figured that I shouldn’t really burden my dad with my problems but I mentioned how I lost my wallet. Startled in his expression he asked where I could have lost it and finally it clicked in my mind where the last possible place would have been of my possession.

When I was heading to the train station I had to use my train ticket to enter. As usual I headed to the train station with Najla and got confused as to what pocket I hid my wallet in once through the gates but I was certain that I had it at the station. Therefore, my expectations of finding the wallet were diminishing as it was probably on its way to Goulburn but I didn’t give up hope.

I remembered upon getting off the express train at Campbelltown that there was a certain moist spot on my backside from sleeping on the train. By this I mean that when a wallet has been in my pocket for a fair length of time that area tends to sweat more than usual. Therefore, it felt a bit awkward when I jumped off the train because I could feel my back pocket was a bit sweatier and if I had realized, it felt emptier and warmer, like I had a wallet in there prior.

The Pocket Culprit

When I was in my dad’s car I finally realized that it was in my back pocket all the time on the train and while I slept for the journey it must have found its way out through my constant fidgeting. I wore my new pants from Politix today and they do have a shallow and stretchy pocket which is easy prey for falling out.

Such irony there is in the fact that since the dawn of time I have always glanced behind me upon getting up from a certain seat to see if my wallet was lying there or was still in my pocket. I even go to my paranoid extent of touching my pocket in which my wallet should lie upon jumping off a seat to see if I still have it.

The irony lies in the fact that this one time that I stood up from my seat on the train tonight I didn’t bother to check behind me. Rather, I glanced lightly towards that direction but I never did see my wallet sitting there for anyone to grab. Fancy that, would we place that under the deed of ‘Murphy’s Law’ in which is something can go wrong, it will go wrong.

Osric At The Station Office

With this new knowledge that my wallet must have fallen out when I was standing up I asked my dad if he could head back to the station so I could put out an APB on my wallet. Jumping out even before my dad stopped the car completely I was in a hurry, a race against time if you may. I knew that I had to get the word out before the train stopped at a major station in order to have any chance of acquiring my wallet and basically my whole identity.

Making my way to the service portion on platform three I knocked on the door eagerly and as the Indian man came up to me I told him of my story and how I needed his assistance. Having me step into their office area I asked if he could call the station guard on the train or the train driver from their connections so that he could walk to where I sat and check if my wallet was there.

This curry muncher who ran by the name of Osric told me that he couldn’t actually ring the train because his reception didn’t reach that far and as I was trying to be quick about the whole ordeal he was scrappy with his haste. Osric didn’t show as much urgency as I did in finding my wallet and as I wanted him to call every station after Campbelltown in which the train stopped so that the word could be out he decided only to call Goulburn.

After same of his babbling I learnt through my mind’s interpreter that if my wallet was found it would be taken to ‘Lost Property’ at Central Station. Basically, that meant I would have almost no chance in hell of finding my wallet and in my head I prayed that whoever found my wallet didn’t hand it into the station.

After his sorry excuse of assistance my dad made his way to the outside portion of the office and as I walked up to him with my disappointed expression I held back the enraged hostility within my voice against the staff to a humble speech. Asking the station guy if he could call me when the train stopped at 7:20 p.m. I asked him to write down my number and I would do the same for him.

His imbecility in the situation was topped off when he was going to write my number on a newspaper but then opted for the better choice, a finely ripped paper cloth, idiot. Seeing there was no hope now in finding my wallet through the people at the station I cursed and cussed in my mind letting out an occasional “Shit” when I knew of all the little things I had to do now.

Everything I Now Had To Cancel

For one, I had to cancel my Credit Card again including my savings card and that alone meant I couldn’t withdraw money from my Credit Card or when next I got paid to support me for the next two weeks. What’s more, I didn’t have any identification at home apart from my birth certificate so it was going to be extremely hard to redeem a new credit card or any money withdrawn over the counter with that much identification.

Things were looking worse for me as I knew I had over $100 in my wallet and I dearly needed that for work expenses. I also let out some words of distress when I knew that my lay-by slip for my jacket at ‘Politix’ was in my wallet and that literally meant that I would be losing out on some money if the guy didn’t believe me. Then there was the stress of my two library cards, my video card and all the other little things that would make wonders marvel.

I was just mostly shitted about losing all my possessions and my pride and glory of a new wallet gone. I didn’t want to think about all the money I would lose out on next pay in having to show my solvency with what my parents would have given me as well as my desire to buy another ‘Jag’ wallet. Basically, I was up shit creek as I jumped back into dad’s car on the way home, no hope.

Dad was worried and as anxious as I on our way home. The lost sleep I would gain from such an event would also be lost sleep for him. On the way home dad and I just chatted as I gritted my teeth in loathing about my bad luck. Becoming aggravated with dad’s usual slow driving I wanted to jump over and drive the car to high speeds so that I could release some tension. I couldn’t wait to get home and pray that someone had called regarding my wallet.