So it turns out that if you're 25 years old and use a High School Musical wallet, when that wallet is left on a bus, then turned into the driver and then to the station and you have to come collect it, the guy who hands it to you will smirk at you.
Bah, humbug. My cheap-ass plastic wallet makes me happy whenever I see it.
The money -- about $19 -- was gone when it was turned in, but the credit card was still there, thankfully. And it was at the same station where I'd just been, not at any of the Cornell stops or Elmira or somewhere, thank god. They called my mom when we were still on the way home, since I apparently had her business card in my wallet, and the guy at the station figured we'd be related, based on having the same last name and all. So no crisis, just smirking.
But now I'm home with my folks, chilling out. I shucked some corn for dinner and walked around the property to see all the new gardeny stuff they've done. It's very green out, and there's so much
space. And quiet. Very odd, if you ask me.
ETA: Conversations had by my parents since I arrived home:
Mom (using a leaf blower): Don't tell me anything until I turn this off, I can't hear.
Dad: What? Turn that off, you won't be able to hear what I'm saying!
Mom: Wait until I turn it off! I can't hear you!
Dad: I can't hear you! What? Turn that off!
And:
Mom: The toothpick just came out of this cleanly, so is it done?
Dad (about 80% asleep): Stick it with a toothpick, see if it comes out clean.
And I won't even share the puns. Lordy.