Today you’re going to find a wallet on the sidewalk. It will contain hundreds of dollars as well as many credit cards. You’ll pick it up off the sidewalk and take it into the nearby corner store.
“Watcha gonna do with that wallet you just found?” the man behind the counter will ask. He saw you pick it up.
“I’m gonna finally live the life that I was meant to live,” you’ll say. “I’ll live like a bigshot, like this guy here probably lives.” You’ll search for his driver’s license but there won’t be one. You’ll check his credit cards but they’ll all have different names on them, each harder to pronounce than the last.
“Be careful,” the shopkeeper will say. “You didn’t earn that money. Nothing you buy with that money will bring you anything but pain.”
“Fuck you and gimme a Cherry Coke Zero!” you’ll shout. The shopkeeper will oblige. You’ll pay with one of your new hundreds. When you open the bottle, it will explode all over your shirt.
“Told you,” the shopkeeper will say. “Get rid of that wallet before it’s too late.”
“You’re just superstitious,” you’ll say to him. “Gimme one of those nailclippers.”
The shopkeeper will oblige. You’ll pay with another of your new hundreds, and when you clip the overgrown nail on your index finger, you’ll cut too deep and expose the sensitive underskin.
“Goddammit boy what’s it gonna take?” the shopkeeper will ask. “It’ll be days before you can play the guitar again. Get rid of that wallet before it’s too late.”
“Save the old wive’s tales for an old wife and gimme a box of those off-brand condoms.”
The shopkeeper will sell you a 12-pack of Wild Cheetah brand condoms. You’ll run outside and go to a nightclub to meet a nice woman. You’ll use the Wild Cheetah brand condoms when you make love to her, but because they are an off-brand of condom they were all pierced with a safety pin at the factory before being shipped off to corner delis (just like it says on the wrapper). The woman from the nightclub will get pregnant with your child and you’ll be overcome with joy and love for your baby-to-be. But the woman from the nightclub will have only been cheating on her husband with you and she’ll tell you that she has to abort in order to keep her husband from finding out. You’ll mourn that little life.
“What’d I tell you,” the shopkeeper will say when you come in for more tissues to cry into. The first batch, which you bought with one of the hundreds from the wallet, contained a moisturizer that gave you a rash. “You think you’d be crying over a baby that never had a chance if you had bought some condoms with money you earned yourself?”
“You’re right,” you’ll say. “This wallet took my first-born. I just wanted to be a big shot.”
The shopkeeper will pat your shoulder. “There’s no bigger big-shot than a hard worker.”
You’ll thank the shopkeeper for the advice, and that night you’ll get rid of the wallet. But not before you use some of the hundreds to buy a plane ticket, hoping that the plane will crash. Instead, a storm will come and all flights will be grounded, leaving you to find some other way to bring an end to all this hurt you feel. It just hurts too much.
Happy Watcha Gonna Do With That Wallet You Just Found Day!