I forgot my wallet at home again today. I left the house at 630 this morning and drove all the way to a meeting in Makati with no money, no credit or ATM cards and no driver’s license. I couldn’t even afford to buy myself a cup of coffee (although I had had the foresight to pack my cigarettes and lighter the night before).
I went through both of my morning meetings debating whether or not I should try to borrow money from one or more of my clients. I could go the entire morning without food or drink, but I couldn’t leave unless I could pay the friggin’ parking fees.
Ultimately, common sense was superseded by pride (and my obstinate refusal to swallow it). And so, as I prepared to leave the building, I began scrounging around the car for enough loose change to pay for my parking. I was able to get 50 pesos from my car’s ashtray cum piggy bank, which I held nervously in one sweaty palm as I maneuvered my way to the ticket booth.
And because life wanted to teach me a really good lesson this time around, the total fee turned out to be 60 pesos, 10 more than I had. I must have held up the line for 10 minutes while I rooted around my backpack and the underneaths of each seat. Somehow, I was able to get it together.
When I got home, I found my wallet sitting beside my keyboard, exactly where I left it this morning. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I’ve been walking around the house for the past five hours with it in my back pocket.