To secure my wallet and keys when I shop, I sacrifice Gucci glamour for a fannypack.
To keep my car and house keys as safe as I know how, short of dangling them from a chain like a trucker or biker, I anchor them to the fannypack by a lanyard crocheted from upholstery tufting cord.
The cord, made to hold buttons indenting overstuffed furniture, has a break strength of 60 pounds.
I also crocheted over the cord with red wool to make it more visible.
This arrangement has one main drawback.
To let my truck engine run while I open and close the front gate, I have to remove the fannypack and place it on the seat.
If I ever exit the truck and absentmindedly leave the fannypack on the seat, I’ll be hiring a locksmith.
To lose or misplace wallet or keys gives me an instant sick feeling.
This I learned recently following a visit to my doctor.
As I approached my truck after the visit I realized I was locked out. I had left my fannypack dangling on the back of the door inside the examination room.
Not only was I locked out of my vehicle, I had visions of a patient occupying his wait going through my wallet and extracting the cash for my week’s groceries.
You can bet I did my senior version of a sprint back to the office.
Fortunately, the doctor was already examining the patient who had had no time to be bored waiting.
Still there are those who deliberately move about without their wallets or identification on them.
Two such instances cropped up not long ago.
The first instance became apparent to me as I sat in a doctor’s waiting room.
A man came in to inquire about a first visit.
He wanted to know if his work medical insurance would pay for any treatment?
The receptionist asked to see his Care Card.
“I don’t have it with me,” he said.
“My wallet’s at home.”
How then, I wondered, had he arrived at this office?
Did he live near enough to walk, by transit or taxi, with a friend?
Or did he drive without his licence?
The fine for driving without a valid licence is $138; for failing to produce a licence is $81.
When the man left, I mentioned it to the receptionist.
She said, “More people than you’d expect show up without their wallets.”
Does that suggest they all drive without carrying their licence?
Only a week or two later I was queued at the pharmacy waiting to order a prescription refill when a man at the head of the line was asked to show two pieces of identification.
“Your Care card, or driver’s licence,” the pharmacist added helpfully.
This is routine procedure, whether you are going for a lab blood test or any other contact with the medical system.
The man was on crutches. One leg had been amputated below the knee.
“My wallet’s in the truck,” he said.
I could understand why he wasn’t about to nip back to his truck to fetch his wallet.
The pharmacist explained two pieces of ID were a standard requirement before filling any prescription.
The man reasoned, “If I’m not the patient named in that prescription would I come back to pick up the drug later?”
I left without knowing whether his prescription was accepted or rejected.
With vandals smashing into vehicles for a dime or a doughnut, a wallet left lying on the console is an open invitation for a broken car window, an unncessary call to police, and paperwork to file for an insurance claim.
Isn’t that reason enough to carry your wallet?
