We all know the obnoxious retort after a poorly told story: “And then you found $1,000.” What about when you start a story with that retort… and it’s true?
It was spring of 2011, and the night began with my sister, Kristen and myself as two crazy girls about town in Canton. By crazy, I mean we grabbed dinner and drinks at Mama’s on the Half Shell. Following, we walked back to her apartment to figure out our next move.
Like the typical younger sister, I breezed right past a somewhat camouflaged wad of cash in the grass. My older and much more observant sister bent her 6”2 frame down –– in heels for that matter –– to pick up the wad of cash.
Looking over our shoulders, we ran like school girls back to her apartment. After locking the door, Kristen counted the money. It was 50 $20 bills. For those who aren’t math mathematicians that’s $1,000.
Sadly, our first thought was one of terror. Was this some type of gang initiation? Had someone seen us come into her building?
Later, we concluded that it was drug money left for someone that was mistakenly intercepted by us.
My conscience got to me and drifted to thoughts that it was a bartender leaving a shift and headed home to her kids. This third option was highly unlikely given the fact that they were all $20s. Regardless, we called to report the lost money to the police.
We’ll call him, Officer Berger. He gave us a case number and said that if it wasn’t claimed in three months, the money would be ours. When that day came along my sister and I called, but we couldn’t get the money at that time because they had changed the rule to one year and a day. And, so we called on that date and many times after because Officer Berger was always unavailable. We were getting the run around until one glorious day his boss answered the phone. He had seen our persistence in following up and granted us the money. My sister went to the Baltimore police station the next day to claim the money. It was still packaged the way we had originally found it.
Ok, I played a very small role in this process. Yet, I still became defensive when my sister started suggesting we split it 60/40 or 70/30. I made my case in a simple way. Anyone who is a Grey’s Anatomy fan will know the classic line: “I’m your person.” To this day, I can’t believe she split it evenly with me.
That’s not even the great ending to this story. We booked plane tickets to San Diego, California to visit family and go to the Ravens/Chargers’ game. The Raven’s lost, but it was a girl’s trip to remember forever.
Lauren's Law 