Whilst perusing a funky used bookshop in the East Village I found several items that caught my fancy. But, recalling my credit card balance, I mustered restraint. Until, that is, I found a beautiful, nearly pristine boxed set of the trippy '60s Brit flick 'Wonderwall'.
The colourful collectors' package contained the DVD plus the book, poster, and CD soundtrack, all nestled in a plastic tray. It was on offer for half-price -- too good to resist. Should I spend the dosh? I asked myself. Best to check out the goods first.
As I carefully slid the tray of contents out of the box I felt a wad of paper wedged between the book and poster. It felt like cash. Glancing down quickly I saw what looked like several tenners, and perhaps some twenties. I promptly stashed the wad into my pocket and tried to look casual, blithely whistling the Oasis tune 'Wonderwall' as I strolled out of the shop. "Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you…"
All the way home I fantasised about what the stash might total. I was keen to have a butcher's, but being in New York, and especially on the subway, I was hesitant to pull it out and count it out.
I kept thinking, What if there are 50s, or even 100s? Maybe it will total $1,000! I then stopped myself with a grounded, philosophical "que sera sera". Anything is better than nothing (but nothing's better than more!).
When I arrived home, before even having a slash or feeding my cats, I pulled out the wad and began counting. Ten, twenty, fifty, one hundred, two hundred… One thousand dollars! Cold, hard cash (actually, it was warm and soft).
Given the psychedelic packaging, the East Village location, and the manner in which the currency was concealed, I surmised that it must have belonged to some drug dealer, who's fate will forever be unknown, but who's legacy will always be appreciated -- by me (and the barman down my local -- the chief beneficiary of my windfall!)