A girl I know told me last night that she found a big bag of weed under the counter at the restaurant where she works. She didn’t take it- she’s newly sober, and besides, it was all shake.
I used to pick up a little work setting up and tearing down for events at the Pacific Coliseum.
The technical term used by the PNE labour crew for this sort of serendipity is “Ground Score!”
I found grass & assorted paraphernia, LSD, mushrooms, and cash.
I also observed some cries of “Ground Score!” from less discerning labourers. An unfinished cup of a stranger’s beer is not (in my opinion) a score of any description. That’s just nasty.
A friend of a friend owns a small chain of grocery stores. One day my friend showed me a picture his friend had sent via cellphone. It was a picture of a bunch of bricks of heroin inside a pallet of cabbage. That’s what he found at HIS work that day!
Someone sent the wrong shit somewhere, and someone probably got killed that day
The only thing I have found at work was another co-workers photo ID badge. I could not locate her, she was in a meeting, so I attached it over mine and wore it around for hours.
Not one person noticed that I had turned from a 5’ 3" white lady into a 6’ foot tall black lady.
All I’ve found in several years is a few coins, a five-dollar bill once, and just recently a couple of tickets for the store’s promo game. One of those turned out to be worth TWO WHOLE DOLLARS!!!
<sigh> The OP’s place sounds a lot more interesting.
You can get them at flea markets and gun shows, or try searching for “brass knuckle novelty paper weight”. Thats how websites advertise them.
Oh and I work at condo/apartment complex in whats marketed as a up-scale neighborhood but is most definitely not. On the upside no one has been shot here for a while.
On one of my old sidejobs I found a grand total of 500 pounds of at least 0000 gauge bright copper wire cut into various sizes and scattered around. Other than that, everything I find on my job now is either melted into a barely recognizable pile and/or is evidence.
Hell, that’s just stuff I found on the ground. You should see what I’ve pulled out of apartments when people move out. I’m just waiting to find a gun one day.
A few months ago, I was walking my dog, and I found a spring-hinged, uh, cigarette case. On the front, there’s a picture, and the words:
Dr Dre
The Chronic.
It was at the edge of the schoolyard, of an elementary school.
