Late afternoon ride home on the 22 on Monday, squished into a seat beside a woman who wouldn't move her legs.
The bus stopped at Turk and a tall, older, white-blond guy got out, followed closely by another guy carrying a freshly dry-cleaned Giants jersey.
They had barely walked three steps when the blond man yelled, "Hey, you've got my wallet! He stole my wallet!" and he ran after the dry-cleaning guy to get his attention. I thought, this won't end well, never does, but then the guy with the dry-cleaning turned around and came over. They argued next to the bus, dry-cleaning guy denying it, blond guy still accusing, and then the man with the dry-cleaning asked the driver to open the back door of the bus.
The driver opened the door and the man ducked into the stepwell, reaching for the other man's wallet, which looked to be lying on the bottom step, safe and sound.
The two men shook hands, the blond guy checked that everything was there, and then they parted ways.
Was the wallet in the stepwell the whole time, or was it just a clever slight of hand by the man with the dry-cleaning?
We'll never know.
My seat mate looked over and said, "What just happened?"
I pointed to the two men, now walking off in different directions, and got her caught up to speed.
She shook her head. "I always tell my dad when he comes up to the city to be careful with his stuff," she said. "Cause you just never know."
We chatted a bit more and then I got out at my stop, called back to her that I hoped she had a good rest of the day.