The Purse

It was my intention to upload this entry before the previous one, but due to me secretly being a moron I did not. However, it now provides a bit of non-linear back-story and character development. This event happened before the events depicted in “Do Not Dance...” It's your choice which you read first.

Remember, people will judge you by your actions, not your intentions.  You may have a heart of gold - but so does a hard-boiled egg.  ~Author Unknown

It's highly important to me that I become more of a bastard, with immediate effect.

Recently, on my way to a meeting, I found a ladies' purse on the pavement. I picked it up, took it to the NHS / Council building where my meeting was due to take place, and gave it to the receptionist. I didn't open it, let alone take the cash out. There was something I found very wrong about the idea of looking inside a woman's personal item.

I then realised I'd got the wrong date for the meeting. I didn't need to be on that street at that time. Had I checked my notes properly and not made the journey, someone else less honest (or maybe naïve) would have found it. Chances are, they'd have handed it in too. But they'd have pocketed the cash. When I lost my wallet on the bus a few years ago, I was fortunate enough to get it back. The only thing missing, predictably, was the cash.

Later I realised that the receptionist could very well have taken the cash herself, or whoever else handled it before its presumed returning to the owner. The owner of the purse would be expecting that the money would be gone. There could have been eight pence in that purse. Or there could have been £200. Either way, I should have taken it- for the sole reason that someone else would have done it if I hadn't. Not to mention, I need the God-damn money.

So I must switch on bastard mode as of now, and keep it that way. I've mentioned on this blog that greed is a part of human nature. It's something I must accept and act on when the opportunity strikes, even if doing so disgusts me.