Operation LOST FAKE WALLET

Friday, January 5, 2007

10:20 a.m.

Union Station was in the grips of late-morning rush hour. A crowd had disembarked a train and was running towards Bay Street like a herd of buffalo. Others were on the wire mesh seats, waiting for god knows what…and that’s where I saw the light-haired young man.

I dropped the fake wallet without pause and immediately descended towards the subway. The young man kept his gaze fixed on the fake wallet. It sat on the floor all illicit and sexy, worn black leather. It had belonged to a friend but he discarded it at my apartment when I gave him a new one as a gift. It had been confined to my drawer for months, and was finally free to travel anywhere in Ontario and beyond.

Wallet contains:

A card that reads: ‘Congratulations! You’ve found a fake wallet! Please call Julia at 416 *** ****.’

A BYID card drawn with markers (including caricature mug shot of me). Fake Visa card, fake TD Debit card. All placed neatly into the card slots.

$1.30 in Canadian Tire money. Two Fake cheques.

I went home feeling proud of my act of kamikaze kindness. Thus began my experiment in human curiousity, my submission to destiny…Very Amélie.

9:20 p.m.

My phone rang. The display showed the number was from the 519 area code. Is this my new wallet-friend, I wondered. Or maybe my cousin with news about her ailing father?

“Yeah hi. I found a fake wallet?” said the young man.
“Great! You found it! It was my experiment in human curiousity. Where were you going when you found it?”
“I was waiting for my train. I saw you drop it. I thought it was a bomb. Wow, you put a lot of effort into it.”
“Ya, fun with markers. I remember you. You were sitting on the corner, right? The guy with the light hair.”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. Well I dropped the fake wallet cause I wanted to see who I could meet. I got the idea from a funny day planner my friend gave me for Christmas. Every few pages there’s another weird challenge that’s supposed to change your life. Where were you going when you found it?”
“Windsor.”
“No shit, I have family there! So what do you do in Windsor?”
“I go to school.”
“Cool. Hey what’s your name, man?”
“Peter.”
“I’m Julia. But I guess you knew that already. Are you going to be back in Toronto anytime soon?”
“Probably not. Will you be in Windsor?”
“It’s possible.”
“Well gimme a call if you are. I can take you for coffee with all this Canadian Tire money.”
“Ha ha. Sure man.”
“Well have a good night.”
“You too. Bye!”
“Bye.”

I felt proud of myself. I probably added some excitement to Peter’s day. First he thought he might be killed by a wallet-shaped bomb, then he opened it and had the whole train ride to wonder what kind of kook would make a fake wallet. Maybe he showed it to the stranger sitting next to him and their laughter about it bonded them together — if even just for a few hours. Likewise, I got to wonder about who would actually call me and why. Would they understand the experiment and have a chuckle, or be disappointed to hear that there’s no cash reward. What kind of mischief did Destiny have in store for us? What would be revealed about the nature of human curiousity?

I’ve decided that my hypothesis was true: people are curious, yet cautious. What if it WAS a bomb? Peter still picked it up and called my number. This curious/cautious behaviour was even displayed by a fellow I was on a date with on the eve of the wallet-drop. I showed him the fake wallet. He eagerly added two more Canadian Tire notes and the two fake cheques. But he wondered why I was trying to “meet guys with a fake wallet.” I assured him it wasn’t about GUYS, it’s about ANYONE, so quit worrying so much.