This Guy Really Takes the Fucking Cake!

The BBQ Pit
21

Some people seemingly have a less-than-firm grasp on the concept that the general population really doesn’t exist just to kiss their asses. I commend your manager for not retorting with something to the effect of:

“I’m hardly asking you to walk on hot coals; I’m just making sure that I don’t give this bag to a person who’s not as honest as the guy who turned it in. If you don’t want to answer three simple questions, I’ll just take the bag to the police station, report it missing, and let you go through the hassle of getting it back over there”.

Prick.

22

Holy crap! What are the odds? The exact same thing happened to me about a year ago. Same amount, same denomination, same type of circumstance. I mentioned this a previous found-money thread a while back. Wow.

I kept it too.

23

My second favorite lost money story:

I was in Spain, about three years ago. I come out of my hotel, turn a corner, and am accosted by two very cute girls, maybe sixteen years old. One of them asks me for directions, but doesn’t speak much English. Also, I’m clearly a tourist, and have no sense of direction. I smile, say “I don’t know,” and try to keep going, but her friend latches on to my arm while the first girl keeps asking me questions. Her friend (who, if I didn’t mention before, is very, very cute) is smiling at me and stroking my forearm. Naturally, my brain has completely shorted out at this point, but something in my reptile brain is telling me this isn’t right, so I finally extricate myself, as politely as possible, and continue on. About half a block later, my forebrain clicks back on and I reach for my wallet. Gone, of course. Pickpockets. I’m pissed, and I know for a fact that my wallet is gone forever, but I turn around to retrace my steps just in case. I go a few steps, and there the girls are again. And one of them hands me my wallet, says in broken English, “I found this. Is yours?” I say yes, take it, and they smile and go on their merry way. I look in my wallet: everything’s there. Money, hotel key, credit cards. (Yeah, I know, stupid to keep all that in my wallet when I’m travelling.) They didn’t take a thing. I’m sure they lifted it: it’s too much of a coincidence for my wallet to have fallen out of my pocket for the first time ever in my life, right when two incredibly cute girls were fawning all over me, once again, for the first time in my life. But they didn’t take anything, and they didn’t ask for any reward.

Absolutely bizarre.
My favorite lost money story:

Christmas Eve. Middle of the depression. My grandmother’s family is totally broke. Barely enough money for food and board. Certainly not enough for a real Christmas. My grandma’s parents are both sick, so she goes out to the store with their last few dollars to get Christmas dinner.

And finds an unmarked envelope with five hundred dollars inside lying in the street.

24

<nitpick>
Almanzo was born in 1857 and the wallet incident at the end of the book takes place in 1866 or 1867. We were still light on automobile production just after the Civil War.
</nitpick>

25

You know, if the guy didn’t have any picture ID, he still could have been bilking your boss.

Who’s to say the guy who lost it didn’t bemoan the loss to some “friend” who found out what was in it, retraced his steps, and claimed to be him?

Ya never know…

Might also explain his impatience.

Esprix

26

Ugh. Reminds me of something that happened back in November.

I was driving down a busy street one afternoon, when I saw something fly out of the window of an oncoming car which didn’t stop. I pulled over and picked it up. It was a date planner, stuffed with all the usual important papers. I opened it up, and found a check for quite a lot of money. I looked through the date planner a bit and found the address of the owner which was on a street that I had never heard of. I went to the gas station across the intersection, asked to use the phone, called information, got the number, and called the owner and left a message. There was a crossing guard back on the original corner, so I wrote down my name and number and gave it to her in case the person came back looking for her planner. All this with the baby in the car!

Figuring that there was nothing more I could do until the owner called back, I continued on my way. There was a road construction detour, and I suddenly found myself on the owner’s street! I found the house, and her car was in the driveway. I rang the doorbell, and she obviously had been frantically looking for the planner and hadn’t heard my phone message. I handed it to her…

And she was angry that I hadn’t found her checkbook too.

Jerk.

So, I went on my merry way. The next day, I saw her at a craft fair. Thinking that maybe she had been so rude the day before only because she was flustered, I said hello and asked how she was. She didn’t seem to recognize me. I said “I’m the person who brought back your planner.” She said “Ohhh hiiii” in the most dismissive manner, as if I were dog droppings on the bottom of her shoe or something.

(I was going to start a thread about it, but I never got around to it.)

27

People can be so fucking rude. It was probably her shitty ass karma that got her into that situation anyway. Hopefully next time she loses her shit, someone not as nice as you will find it.

28

Once upon a time I found a change purse in a telephone booth. It had $800.00 in it. It also had a list of names and denominations, and a list of names and items. It was pretty obvious that somebody had gotten married and made a note of what the presents had been. I got on the 'net and the phone and tracked down the owner.

I once received a piece of mail directed to the wrong address. The number was the same as my house, and the addressee was “Tyler”. No Tylers here. The return address was “Auntie Barb”. I could tell by the colourful marker work decorating the envelope that it was intended for a kid, and it held, by feel, some kind of collectible cards. I got on the 'net and the phone and tracked down Tyler.

I really, really wish I could have the opportunity to find something belonging to the asshole described in the OP. It’d be nice to be able to override my better instincts just once.

Tell Eduardo that he’s restored a little bit of faith in humanity in a bitter and cynical man.

29

OD Smash!!!

30

Wanna join the “Eduardo’s Free Lunch with all the Trimmings” betting pool?!?

31

I was going by faulty memory of a book I read in 1975 (the last time, anyway) and I stand corrected. This was also the reason why I didn’t name the man who lost the wallet…I couldn’t for the life of me remember his name.

Let’s just say it was a long time ago! :slight_smile:

32

What a guy Eduardo is. I second (or is it third? fourth) the Free Lunch With All The Trimmings idea.

The guy in the OP who lost the bag - what an utter asshole. He doesn’t deseve that kind of luck.

And to share my own story, which happened a few months ago…

I was walking home down a shortcut I take, which is basically a narrow overgrown path between two rows of trees, and I saw a mobile phone dropped in knee-high grass. If I hadn’t looked in exactly the right place I’d never have seen it. Anyway, I picked it up and took it home. Scrolling through all the numbers stored on it, I found the one labelled “Home” and rang up. The man on the other end didn’t even know he’d lost it, so I told him where to pick it up, and that was that.

That night he turned up on the doorstep with a huge box of chocolates. I was flattered.

The weird part about the story is that a couple of months after that, I lost my own phone. I knew I hadn’t dropped it, it had just disappeared out of my bag, so I figured it had been stolen and that I’d probably never see it again. Two weeks later, a girl rang up one of my friends to say she’d found a phone stuffed in her bag and was calling the numbers on it to see who had lost it.

I went to see her to retrieve it, thanked her profusely and gave her a box of chocolates. It seemed like the right thing to do. :slight_smile:

33

A while back, I was in my car at a drive thru ATM behind another car. When the other car finished, he drove away and I pulled up to the machine. The words on the screen read, “Another transaction? Yes/No.”. I was startled, but selected “no”. I continued with my own transaction, then sped around looking for the car. No luck.

That night, I called information with the guys name and got a phone number. I called and found that I had reached the card-owners father (of the same name). The father explained that his son was in town visiting. I offered to hold the card until they could pick it up. We exchanged information and agreed on a time early next morning, as I had prior commitments.

The next morning arrived and I waited. And waited. And waited. When I could wait no more, I simply put the card in an envelope and taped it to my door.

I never heard from any of them again.

“You’re welcome.”

Jeesh.

34

It’s always a shame that you can’t go back and do it right, but consider…

“I don’t have time for your games,…Just give me my bag.”

Should be answered with:
“Well, you see the thing is, I’ve just given it to this other guy that claimed it was his.”
Hilarity ensues.

35

The guy was an asshole.

Your boss sounds like a stand-up guy. If I were in San Antonio, I’d stand Eduardo to lunch and a drink and shake his hand for being a decent, honest man.

36

I think Eduardo found the bag and wanted to leave with it, but knew someone would come looking and call him a thief if it wasn’t there.

Eduardo got a friend’s I.D., stuck it in the bag and your boss actually called his friend in. The guy acted irate to throw you off.
Eduardo and his friend split the booty.

Or…

The guy who lost the bag and came to claim it is a giant prick.

37

Did anyone ever see that “WKRP in Cinncinati” episode where a DJ accidentally said the prize for naming the song was $10000 instead of $100 (or something like that)? They decide they have to keep the prize at $10000 and someone guesses the song. Some guy comes to pickup the money and they hand him a briefcase full of cash. Come to find out it was the wrong guy! Never checked his id. Maybe the manager remembered that episode.

38

mhendo, I’d say that even caring about whether or not you’re a bad person, when you’re 300 bucks richer, exempts you from being a bad person.

I once worked in a restaurant that was a pretty big tourist trap. One night, a very nice man came in to eat, and left. About an hour later, he came back, wondering if anyone had found a white envelope at his table. We escorted him to the table (a booth, actually), and the people now seated there were kind enough to get up so that we could check thoroughly for the envelope.

We didn’t find it.

I offered to take his name and number, and call him if it turned up, but he said nah–he hadn’t figured the envelope would still be there, and was from out of town, anyway, so he wouldn’t be able to come back and claim it.

Well.

At the end of the evening, as the busser was doing a thorough cleaning of the booths, he found the envelope wedged way down between the cushioned seat and the seat back. He handed it to me (completely unaware that there had been a man in looking for it earlier), and I gave it to the manager.

It had almost 300 bucks inside.

But we had no way of contacting the guy.

So we (the manager and I) split the money. Really, he wouldn’t have had to share it with me, since I had no idea what was in it when I handed it over, but I think he was looking to absolve himself of a little guilt.

So, after giving the busser a HEFTY tip-out (though I didn’t tell him why, because the manager figured that two people could keep a secret better than three), I headed over to my (then-) boyfriend’s house and offered to take him out for a late-night dinner.

Since I was usually broke as a joke, he was suspicious.

“You don’t have any money,” he said.

“I do NOW,” I said, flashing my wad-o-cash.

The bad part of the story? Because I was the bookkeeper at this restaurant (in addition to being a hostess/server), my boyfriend thought that I had stolen the money from the day’s cash deposit (he often gave me shit for neglecting to take advantage of the opportunity to pinch off a little cash for myself via my bookkeeping duties).

And he was proud of me for it.

Before I could explain where it had come from, he grinned, “That’s my GIRL!” and gave me a big hug. :eek:

When I finally DID get the story out, he was disappointed–but he still took me up on the free food.

39

Or just too stupid to be allowed to live.

When I was a bank teller, this sort of thing happened all the time. One day, a guy approaced my window wanting to make a withdrawel. When I brought up his account, it had a memo that said “Ask for 3 forms of ID per customer request.” Wanting to not get fired for failing to follow instructions, I asked the guy for three forms of ID.

He went off on me. The string of profanity would make a Pitizen blush. I explained the memo on his account.

He said “I KNOW!!! I TOLD SOMEONE TO PUT THAT ON THERE!!!”

I calmly replied “So I need to identify you, as per your own instructions.”

“BUT NOT WHEN IT’S ME!!!”

He walked out in a huff, calling me a name. (For those of you who are thinking that he was an imposter, later identification showed he wasn’t. He was merely dumb as a puddle of brown goo.)

On a related note, in my lifetime I have found – and returned – three wallets. I have yet to get a reward. Not that doing the right thing isn’t its own reward.

40

That’s the way God does miracles now. It was too much work doing all those old-style miracles like parting the Red Sea and turning water into wine. Now he just drops a few hundred dollar bills around. So enjoy your blessed intervention! Just don’t spend it on anything illicit