Good Karma

Jerry Seinfeld called himself "Even Steven." Some say, "easy come, easy go." Justin Timberlake sang, "what goes around, comes around" to some supposed Britney wannabe in a video. The Indians simply call it karma.

Every now and then the universe sends reminders that there is, in fact, a wizard behind the curtain. Maybe it's God or multiple gods or perhaps even Elvis but it must be more than just weird science.

Saturday night was "ladies nite" in the greater Bethel/Shelton area so my sister and I went out on the town. I put on my party sweater and thought I'd dress it up with some jewelry. Staring me in the face was one of most favorite bracelets from India. Like always, when I put it on, I can't help but think how much more I would love it if only it fit a little better. It's not so big that it just slides right off my wrist but just about...a nuisance more than anything.

About half way through dinner, I realized I was not wearing a bracelet. My first thought, was not "oh no, it fell off..." My first thought was that I had actually decided not to wear it because it's big and bulky and it was just my sister and I going out to dinner. I'd be home by 9 so why get all gussied up? But then the more I thought about it, the more I was sure I had walked out of the house with it on. I still didn't jump to "oh no, it's gone forever..." but I was thinking it may have fell off in the car. Between my big, bulky sweater and my big, bulky jacket and my big, bulky gloves, I figured it might have just gotten mixed up in all the bulk.

At the end of the night, I checked with the host. No one had found anything but he took my number in case it turned up...but that's like hearing, "we'll call you either way" after a job interview.

It wasn't in my car - but the parking lot was dark and the soft-top Jeep doesn't have much in the way of interior lights so I drove home with still a glimmer of hope that if it hadn't made it out of the house it would turn up and if not, it was just another lesson in placing too much emphasis on material goods. So what that I got it in India? Isn't it the memories that count? Isn't it the time we spent there that matters? If someone did find it, I was sure they would just keep it for themselves. Who wouldn't? Not that it was expensive or even looks expensive but still. I had to accept that it might be gone forever. And when I got home and took a better look, I told myself it was gone forever. And that was ok.

After a quick prayer to St. Anthony (who must get so sick of people like me only saying hello when they've lost something...) and sending good vibes into the universe (in case Saint A HAS stopped listening), I went to bed. If it were a movie, the camera would pan outside and show the wind picking up just a bit to indicate the universe was working on something.

And wouldn't you know it, a 203 number called yesterday afternoon and while I never pick up the phone if it's a number I don't recognize, I picked it up. It was the restaurant saying they had my bracelet. Good cosmic karma.

So today, thinking that MLK's dream while not explicitly stated, probably included a store where you could get nearly anything you need at rock bottom prices. Sure, you have to weigh the cheap prices against the moral questions of questionable business practices like gender inequality and sweat shops but Walmart insists they are cleaning up their acts. Plus, in these tough economic times, I know I'm not the only onoe shopping at Walmart.

I made my way to the home goods aisles. and stopped in the clock aisle. I've been in the market for an alarm clock and a small wall clock to replace the faux gold clock in our kitchen. Walmart however is no "Pottery Barn" and the aisles are often blocked by carts full of random stuff - like someone was in the middle of restocking the shelves and either got tired, bored or abducted by aliens. I left my cart on the end and made my way down to the alarm clocks.

As I picked up one of the small wall clocks, I heard a cart pass by in a rush. I walked to the end of the aisle to put the clock in my cart that has disappeared. I walked down a few aisles looking left and right but only saw a few people with empty carts - I had accumulated an assortment of non-essentials including my green Stop & Shop recycle bags. I walked back thinking maybe I left it in the opposite direction. Nothing. Everyone became a suspect. The old woman using her cart as her walker, the mother yelling at her toddler son to "shut his mouth," and the punk teenager that may or may not have been an employee. It wasn't particularly crowded so I continued to search.

I didn't jump to "theft" but the longer I searched in vain, the more baffling the situation became. We've all taken someone's cart by accident and soon realized it wasn't ours. But isn't it a universal law to return it to where you might have taken it once you make the realization?

Long story short, I got in line to check out thinking it serves me right to be advertising for Stop & Shop in Walmart. Since there was no one in the customer service line, I made a last minute decision just to see if a half-filled cart had shown up. The manager seemed none to pleased to have to help me and instead of acting crabby back to him, I smiled pleasantly and explained my situation careful not to choose words like, "thieves," "cheap," "dirty," "punks." He looked in my cart like he was hoping I had just overlooked the obvious. Then he picked up his phone: "Attention Walmart shoppers, if you have taken a cart with green recycle bags, please return it to customer service." After this did not work, he said he would "take a look" by the clock aisle. He disappeared for a while but I'm not sure how hard he was really looking. At this point I was ready to just check out but I was kept entertained by the random birds that were flying around the inside of the store. I counted three birds and zero doors open (for an extended period).

When he returned he just said, "how many bags did you have?" Then, "come with me." He took the tags of three Walmart cloth bags and put them in my cart. "Here, take these. Sorry for the trouble." I couldn't tell if he was sorry for my trouble or whether he was sorry for the trouble he put in to my problem.

Even Steven. Actually, I think I only had two bags and he gave me three. I'm expecting the world to right itself somehow tomorrow. Will let you know.