Saturday we went shopping at a huge new outlet mall. Dont let the word “outlet” fool you. They have lots of nice fancy stores like Neiman Marcus and Marc Jacobs and Kate Spade. We went mostly for the visual stimulation, since we are far from having a Neiman Marcus budget, outlet or no. Although I did get some of these:
Spare me your Croc Hate. These babies are dreamy comfort.
Anyway, the outlet mall has lots of little fenced in play areas where the kids can blow off steam. We were in one of these areas when I saw a baggie on the ground with what looked like a bunch of trash in it. I picked it up to toss it in the trash and that’s when I noticed the gift cards. Good gift cards. To places we patronize, like The Disney Store, Dicks Sporting Goods, The Gap, and Outback Steakhouse.
Wow! What fun could we have with these? I had visions of a guilt free spree, followed by a juicy steak dancing in my budget-wracked head. Wheee! I looked around but there weren’t any other people in the play area. My sister Amy assured me that they were fair game. We headed off to the bathroom and I handed her the bag o’gift cards while I took my kids in to the potty.
When I came out, she showed me a receipt she found in the bag. A receipt with a name on it. A pretty distinctive name. Not like “Katie Couric” distinctive. Let’s call her “Sophia Parquet”. In other words, she was no “Kathy Smith”. Amy and I debated what to do next. Was it worth trying to have her paged? Would she even hear it in this crowded outlet mall? What if she had already left? Do we bother trying to find the Customer Service center and turn it in? What to do?
Why did there have to be a name? See, I was all set to go gift card crazy until I had a name. This had suddenly gone from FInders Keepers to stealing. So I did nothing. I put them in my purse, and did nothing. But all night I thought of Sophia on and off. I was mad at her for losing her shit in a place where I would have to find it and make a morally correct decision. Me, who would love nothing better than to have a few gift cards to play with. Anonymous, untraceable gift cards that have “Treat this as cash” written all over them. Why did the fates have to tempt me this way? Oh Sophia, how your gift cards taunt me!
When I got to work this morning, I googled old Sophia. And the only one I found was in Tampa Florida. In a nursing home. Several states away from me and the gift card stash. So I pulled the gift cards out again and wondered why an old lady in a nursing home would have a Disney gift card, and that is when I noticed that the Disney card was made out to “Ethan”. So I googled “Ethan Parquet” and I found DOCTOR and Mrs. Parquet, and their lovely children Ethan and Rebecca. In a town not more than 10 miles from the outlets.
A DOCTOR? My husband is not a DOCTOR. Neither am I. Why must she torment me so?
The google listing linked to her husband, the DOCTOR, and his practice. I called the office, and The Good DOCTOR himself answered. I told him why I was calling and how I found him. He was the nicest, sweetest, most appreciative DOCTOR I have ever spoken too. Hell, he answers his OWN office telephone. And yes, she had been shopping on Saturday and she did mention taking the kids in one of the play areas. And yes they had a son named Ethan and he was 5. And we chatted
about that and I asked him if he wanted me to send the gift cards to the office. He gave me their home adddress and even gave me Sophia’s cell phone number.
No I didn’t call her. What would I say? “Hey, you gave me a 36 hour moral crisis and made me come >THIS< close to stealing a 5 year old kids Disney gift card….!”
I just dropped them in the mail. I think KNOW it was the right thing to do.
Did I mention that he is a DOCTOR?
Names in Italics have been changed to protect the rightful owners of the gift cards.
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