Paranoia: My Best Friend

On Tuesday, I was out of town walking to my car on a very busy road near a college campus. I looked down, and in the street gutter next to my car was a young lady's driver's license.

It was clear to me from her age that she was probably a student at the school--another clue was that the home address was from about 300 miles away. I picked up the license and quickly looked around with a relatively futile hope that the matching face would suddenly appear in front of me by magic.

Then I felt struck with a dilemma: Should I just toss this back in the street? Surely the girl will come looking for it, right? One time, I dropped my paycheck in the street and came back and hour later and found it. If someone had taken it, I would have been screwed.

Then again, maybe some evil person will find it after I drop it, open an online credit card, charge it up, and it would be my fault.

What if someone has hacked this person up and hauled her off somewhere, and I get pulled over with her driver's license in my possession?

I decided I would take it home and mail it to the address on the license--if it's her parent's house, she'll get it.

I couldn't possibly disclose to Fran rapidly enough why I was in possession of a young, blonde girl's identification. She just smiled about it and commented that it was nice of me to help the poor girl--thank God no suspicion or mocking me for getting myself into a mess...

Fran suggested that if I just drop the license into the mailbox that it will magically find its way to the owner free of charge. I have much less faith in the postal system.

Should I just put it in an envelope by itself and send it? I really don't want to put a note, and damn sure don't want to put my name, address, etc. on it because that just puts the receiver in a weird position, right?

I need to reveal a secret fear that I have: I have this overriding fear of being perceived as a stalker. I just happen to be a person who enjoys conversation, remembers people's names and faces for crazy long periods of time, likes to compliment people, etc. I have this deep, deep fear of being misinterpreted, and I take pains to avoid situations like this, but still seem to find myself in the middle of them all the time. Here's an example: If I see a guy's blog entry that I really like, I have no qualms about complimenting them or leaving a comment. I think 2 or 3 times before leaving any kind of similar comment on a woman's blog, just because I am terribly self-conscious about them thinking I'm some cheesy dude from a 70's movie with the weird tinted glasses trying to pick them up or something. Seriously, it's a thing with me. By the way, I PROMISE I'm not hitting on you, whoever you are (and that's my story, your honor).

So, in this situation, I just completely freaked out over how to send this silly license.

Just sending the license in an envelope by itself is kind of creepy and weird, so that was out.

My handwriting, unfortunately, resembles that of a serial killer, so I tried to keep any kind of explanation to a minimum.

Finally, I wrote on a piece of paper: "Found this on the street near the ******* campus. Mike". I folded it up, sealed the envelope, and put a stamp on it and put it in the mailbox. Whew! Crisis managed.

I envision some poor mother opening the envelope, freaking out, and calling her daughter saying "We got your driver's license in the mail today. There was the most terrifying handwriting--I just had to call make make sure you were okay. And who the hell is Mike?"

That evening, when I went to get my mail, there was the damned envelope still--apparently, the postal rate went up and I used the wrong type of stamp. The letter carrier had written "39 cents" at the top. This is sure to puzzle the poor girl, now, right?

Then, to make it more confusing, I didn't have a stamp for the price of the difference (I had used a 34 cent stamp or something), so I just put another 34 cents on there, cursing the letter carrier for being such a damned stickler. I breathed a sign of relief today when the letter was gone from my box. It was like a boomerang of shit circling over my head--I'm just glad it's over now.

Anyway, this is my poor life.