Bank of the Universe

I can’t remember the last time I carried cash in my wallet.

It was probably for a business trip, but I can’t be sure.

I don’t know whether my lack of tangible dinero is because I feel I’m more efficient with a card, or whether I’m just lazy. It’s probably the latter, as there have been numerous studies I’ve read about how people who deal in cash-only tend to spend less than debit or credit users.

All that aside, however, tonight I wished I was one of those die-hard, cash-carrying people.

A great meal at Fleming’s ended with agita on my part. I had parked in a parking deck. The last time I checked my wallet, I had a $5 on me — and only because it was too much “change” that a friend gave me because that’s all they had on their person.

Even with the validation, I was more than an hour over and the parking deck charged $1.50 per 15 minutes. Do the math: $6 minimum is what I’d owe, although they’d probably be less than flexible and stick me for $7.50 at the 61-minute mark. With only $5 in my purse and no bank in walking distance, I crossed my fingers that they took credit cards. As I passed by the posted fee sign, my heart sunk. No credit cards.

I have to tell you that consuming a rib-eye, red wine, delicious sides and a creme brulee is borderline not worth it if you realize that your parking sitch my be an issue. A knot formed in my stomach. Or perhaps that was just the insane amount of beef I’d ingested.

I decided to go for it. Surely I had change that I could scrape together to diffuse an angry parking attendant who would allow me to exit the parking deck, right?

When I got in my car, the $5 was nowhere to be found.

Nothing.

Nada.

To boot, my change supply was meager, at best. Sheesh.

I motored toward the parking attendant’s booth, all the while fumbling in my purse for extra change or anything that could be used to barter my way out of the deck.

My hand landed on a paper, and I assumed it was my dental appointment reminder. Their papers are small, semi-thick and they crinkle nicely.

Instead, my hand took hold of the paper and pulled it out. It was a $10.

What? How?

While I concede that my purse is a massive black hole that probably harbors a small child or three, I swear that I have no idea where that $10 came from.

Feeling quite pleased with myself and anxious to start enjoying my food coma again, I pulled up behind the car ahead of me at the exit booth.

It drove through after zero interaction with the person inside. Zero because… there was no person.

I thought for a moment that all my fretting was for nothing, but then realized that the way the universe works for me is that if I’d not have found the $10, the cashier at the gate would’ve been a grumpy cashier.

Instead, I found extra cashola and no parking attendant.

How fortunate

Tonight I am thankful for luck, for fortune and for a universe that’s got a watchful eye over all — even when we think it doesn’t.

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