The wife flew back from Boston yesterday arriving at 4:30, so the plan was for her to take the subway to the nearby station here, simple enough. I go to meet her, and she texts that she has lost her pocketbook, bummer. She is already through security when she realizes it's missing, so now it's a problem. I hang around a bit and it's obvious this is going to take some time so I drift over to a local sports bar, Taco Mac, which is not my cup of tea really, I have a beer (Goose Island IPA, fine, and some chips). The sports bar thing is something I tend to avoid, and this one is no different, while they have a hundred plus beers on tap and 50+ TVs, the food is second rate and the service is banal. I hang for a while, finish, and start back to the condo, and just as I reach it the wife calls me and says they found her pocketbook still on the plane and return it to her with all her stuff. She tells me this could never happen in France.
So, I turn around and reverse my path to the MARTA station but stop off at a small park to sit because I figure it will take her 25 minutes, in fact it took her 15 and she went to the wrong station at first and had to take another train south back to where I was, but she got there very fast. It all worked out. Moral of the story?
Most people here are honest. While we were dining outside, a guy runs by yelling at some woman loudly, it caught our attention, but he was working at the next door restaurant and the lady had left HER pocketbook behind, so he caught her and returned it, as he walked by I gave him a thumbs up, not that it matters, a large black dude with dreadlocks who looked a bit rough sort of. He smiled at me and thumbs up.
We'll go to that place soon.