So I’m hurrying to my plane back from SXSW and I hear my name called on the airport PA to come to security. Not a good feeling.
So I rush over to security and take out my passport.
Me: Hi, I’m Gil Reich, you called me
Them: Do you have any other ID?
Me: Yeah, I have a second passport …
Them: Anything else? Driver’s license? Credit cards?
Me: Sure, right here in my wallet.
Them: Where is your wallet?
Me: Right here in my pocket [except it isn’t. I feel my other pocket. Not there either. I see them smiling.] It’s not in my pocket. It’s in your pocket, isn’t it? You have my wallet, that’s why you called me here. [I’m slow, but I get there eventually. Sometimes.]
One of them is holding my driver’s license, and he asks me for my birthday. Which was a little silly, as I just got through TSA using this passport that I’m holding, and my face matches the ID in his hand. But I don’t care, I’ll recite the entire contents of my wallet if he wants.
I had neither the time nor the presence of mind to go back to the store where I left my wallet and thank him for returning my wallet.
According to the receipt I have, it was Robin Jones.
So, Robin and wonderful TSA people who gave me back my wallet, thank you. And thank you nice people everywhere who do these things. A few minutes later I’d have been on a plane and eventually I’d have figured out that I was without all my money, credit cards, driver’s license, and whatever else. So thank you Robin, TSA, and other nice people. You rock.