Divine Intervention

Earlier this evening I had a couple of beers with one of my friend in Coven Garden. Everything was fine, we had a chilled talk about life, girls, work you know things people usually talk about. After the third or fourth Guinness I thought it's time to go home. So we went. At Tottenham Court Road I had the excellent idea of having a Chips with Cheese so I reach for my wallet but I cannot find it. Check all my pockets, nothing, my bag, nothing. Fuck I'm so dead. Debit cards, social security, entry cards, some money, all gone. Let's go back. Now I know how enlightenment is. My mind was empty. No thoughts at all except one that said: I'm a fuckin moron, asshole and all the synonyms you could imagine. Maybe Buddha lost his wallet and got so pissed that he started a religion. I guess we will never know. There is a five minute walk back to Coven Garden but it felt like hours. When we got there I saw some ladies sitting at our table and below my chair there it was: my wallet with all my shit. That's what I call divine intervention, Pulp Fiction like. God came down to earth, stopped all the bullets in L.A. and he arrived just in time to make sure I get my wallet back. I'm not religious, but if there is a God he sure loves me a lot. I'm his favorite puppy :)