Money In The Street

I rode my bicycle to a Halloween party last night. I went with Emily, the Kerouac House writer in residence. On our way over I saw some trash in the street that I mistook for money. I stopped to look at it. I saw a dollar bill nearby. Then I saw another dollar bill and another. I eventually found a $5 bill and four $1 bills. I decided immediatley that it needed to be recirculated. I bought 4-pack of La Fin Du Monde, and had 49 cents change. I told Emily about the time I was kicked off of a train leaving Copenhagen. I didn't have a ticket. I had left my money at the farmhouse in Denmark where I was staying. After I was kicked off of the train I found some money in the street. It was enough to get a sandwich, a beer and a bus ride near the farmhouse. Another time I found $23 floating in the ocean. I took my friend to happy hour on our way home. I tried to make a rough estimate of how much money I've found in my life. I've estimated that it's around a dollar a year. I was thinking about how exciting it is to find a few dollars, but if you find a lot of money, the excitement might be combined with terror or guilt. I found $9 last night, but it would have been ridiculous to look for the person who lost it. It was on the side of street that can get a lot of traffic, and it's $9. At what point or what sort of circumstances does the innocent find become something more? My head hurts a little today.