Brianne: Losing My Wallet, Irish Edition

I’ve lost my wallet many a time. In fact, I’ve lost it so many times that losing it on my first night in Dublin didn’t even surprise me. I knew it was bound to happen during my time here, I just didn’t expect it to be so soon. This time around the lost wallet merry-go-round I was forced to learn some of the ways of this newfound culture.
Walking into Flannery’s pub on Wexford Street I felt as if I was entering a beehive full of drunken bees. The weather outside was cool and wet, the rain coming and going as it pleased. Things I brought that I wished I could have left at the door: sweatshirt, rain jacket, umbrella. Holding all of these things was the beginning of my demise. I was jostled to and fro from the second I went in to the second I came out, and during one particular jostle, my wallet wiggled its way out of my purse. I realized it was gone as I attempted to pay the 8 euro cover at Whelan’s, another pub on Wexford. I quickly ran back to Flannery’s and began to frantically describe the pickle I had gotten myself into to any official-looking person I could find. The bouncer was honestly concerned for me. He gave me a pen with all of the pub’s information I needed written on it and asked me to write down what my wallet looked like and its contents.
After that I headed home, wallet-less. I knew going about canceling credit cards and all of that was going to be more difficult here in Ireland. Luckily, Regina from IES helped me call my bank in the States to get everything under control. She also gave me a loan of 100 euro until I had my debit card again. Two days later I get a call from Ashley, the director of IES, and he tells me that my wallet has been found! He gives me the number of a man named David, who apparently had my wallet. Turned out to be at Whelan’s. How it got over there I am not quite sure, but nevertheless, he had it.
As I was walking down Wexford Street an elderly lady approached me and must have sensed some uneasiness in me because she looked right in my eyes and asked, “Is everything alright?” I told her I was looking for Whelan’s and she walked me right to it. Inside the pub I was met by the bartender’s welcoming eyes, it was David. He knew my face from my license picture. “Ahh you are the girl who lost her wallet!” he said. He handed me my wallet and then began to help a customer. I wanted to give him something in return for his help but I only had a 20 euro bill. I ordered a coke and attempted to give him 10 euro, which it would have none of. I sat and drank my coke and when I finished I left 5 euro underneath my glass. Hopefully he took it.
Overall this experience taught me that kindness is an important part of Irish culture. From the bouncer at Flannery’s to IES’s Regina and Ashley to the elderly woman on Wexford to David, the genuine care for the well-being of an absentminded American girl was astounding.