My plans were set. Go spend that gift card I received and a little more of my own money on something else, go to the bank machine to deposit and pay bills, then take out some cash for the rest of my shopping plans tonight. I dutifully left the bank machine quickly, as there was someone waiting, went to load my transit card with my December fare, and moved on for more.
The next plan I had to revise, as I was going to go spend another gift certificate I received as a lovely parting gift from my former job, but I realized part way there that the gift certificate was still in my apartment. Drat! Would I have to spend that tomorrow? Maybe Sunday...
Still more shopping. Yogurt and a couple of impulse items at the fruit store. I got to the cash and — surprise! Something was missing:
Yes, as I repeated in my head "Stupid, stupid, stupid...", I realised that I had beaten such a hasty retreat from the bank machine that I had left my card inside for the person who was in line behind me.
I rushed back with as much poise and dignity as I could muster. I broke out the other bank card I have in my wallet to open the door (the magnetic stripe opens the door) and went inside with great trepidation. Would I have to call the bank to explain my stupidity and then wait who knows how long for a new card? Would I discover that the person behind me had conducted a few transactions?
There, atop the machine, was a card. Grab. Insert. Enter PIN. Yes, it was mine. Next test: ask for printout of recent transactions. Only the ones I had done. My trust in my fellow humans has once again been confirmed to a degree that only Pollyanna might expect.