That, or I inadvertently stole from a Chinese takeout place last night. One of the two.
Let me explain.
I ordered Chinese food last night. It was late, it was dark, it was a bad neighborhood on Halloween night, and I was hungry, so I called the number on the random takeout menu that I had found wedged into the doorframe of the apartment. The total came out to $9-something. When the delivery person showed up to the apartment, I held out a twenty, he counted out the change, I gave him a couple of bills back as tip and waved off the coins, and we parted ways.
It was only when I put the food down on the table that I realized, I still had the twenty.
Insert several seconds of studying the twenty dollar bill. I could have sworn I only had the one. And yes, it was the same one. Relatively crisp, still creased down the middle where I had it folded in my wallet.
I called the lady at the restaurant. The conversation went, nearly word for word, like this:
Me: Hi, I just had an order delivered.
Lady: Yes?
Me: The thing is, the delivery person forgot to take the money.
Lady: Forgot the money?
Me: Yes.
(Muffled sound of her conferring with someone in the background.)
Lady: No, no. Already gave.
(Pause.)
Me: Wait, I – I gave him the money?
Lady: Yes.
Me: Are you sure?
Lady: Yes, yes.
Me: O…kay.
Lady: Okay bye. click
And I went back to my beef and broccoli, which I apparently paid negative eight dollars for. It was pretty bad food, but under the circumstances I don’t think I should be complaining.
What would you have done, Dopers?