Friday, April 14, 2017

Not a Happy Camper

Not a Happy Camper by Debra H. Goldstein

Ripped off!  Violated!  Pissed. All emotions and thoughts going through my mind this morning when I picked up my Mah jongg change purse and discovered it was significantly lighter than when I put it in my car’s console Friday morning.

It was only four dollars in quarters lighter, but I was bummed.  Was the culprit the clean-cut valet who parked my car when I met my daughter in Atlanta for brunch on Sunday? Was it the nice duo who vacuumed my car and its mats at the carwash? Could it have been the industrious young man who spent so much time wiping and polishing my car when it rolled out of the wash?

I don’t know. 

What I do know is how much money should have been there for next week’s game. 

I don’t count my Mah jongg winnings every week, but instead of transferring it from my purse to the car’s console and leaving it there until I play the next week, as I did until this morning, I accidentally carried it into the house last Thursday.  Understand, I stake myself $5 every January and watch it go up and down throughout the year. Occasionally, the stake runs out before year’s end, but most of the time it is enough to entertain myself once a week for the year.  When I took it into the house and out of my purse last Thursday evening, I realized it was heavier than usual.

I counted it.  I was up.  There was $9.75 in the change purse.  Happiness.

After the car wash today, I opened the place in the car where I keep my mah jongg card, change purse, coupons, a few quarters for parking, parking passes, and sunglasses.  It wasn’t in its usual neat order.  All but two of the six parking quarters were missing and the change purse was skewed out of its normal location. I picked it up and discovered the purse felt thinner and lighter.  It was.

I counted it. There was $5.25.  Bummer.

In the future, the maj money will come out of the car – the six parking quarters will remain.  I’ve learned my lesson thanks to someone who is up $5.50 in quarters.  What’s even more frustrating, I tipped each of the suspects.  Sign me, Not a Happy Camper.

2 comments:

  1. The premise for a good short story, Debra, with a more murderous ending!

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    1. Good chance it will become one! Of course, I have to stop growing a bit before I write it.

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