I just moved to California from New York, and let me tell you—I’ve already forgotten what the subway is like. I have no memory of how winter feels. The rat race is is fast receding into distant history.
But if one item could still conjure the city’s unmistakable aura for me, it’s this letter from the person who found New Yorker Reilly Flaherty’s lost wallet at a Wilco concert. Has anyone wrestling with their conscience ever achieved such transcendent honesty in the bargain?
Flaherty had already replaced his “important stuff” by the time it was returned, he told the New York Post. “Anonymous” also filched a Barnes & Noble gift card and a loyalty card from Mr. Shiny’s shoeshine, “which was a real drag because I almost had a free shine,” he added.
So, dear stoner, in the end you turned out to be not only selfish but basically unhelpful, despite your (not quite) best intentions. If you see Flaherty at the next indie rock show, at least give him a hit off that blunt.