I burst through the restaurant doors, quickly searching the crowd. The silent masses around me blocked my sight as they marched on to an unheard drum-beat. ‘Damn cities’, I thought, always so overpopulated. I guessed a direction and took it. Squeezing through and around the river of bodies, I spotted the back of my targets jacket. It was an unmistakable brown tweed, and if that wasn’t enough, the out of date fedora he wore atop his head singled him out. My pace quickened, and I left behind me angry murmurs and curses from those and pushed from my way. This guy was not getting away from me. I paused to look around again, trying to find my mark. Damn, he was lost from my sight. I found an empty newspaper rack and stood on it to get a better look. A honking car caused my head to spin in its direction. There! That’s my man. I jumped off the rack and almost fell. Regaining my balance, I dashed across the street. Cars honked and tires screeched but I gave them no heed. I was almost to him, there was no losing sight now. I slowed down to regain my breath. Once calmness was once more attained, I quickened my pace yet continued at a steady walk. Reaching the back of the man, I extended my arm and tapped his shoulder. He turned around and looked at me. Curiosity filled his eyes.
“I believe you dropped this in the restaurant.” I said, holding out a cell phone.
“You must be mistaken sir, that’s not mine.” The man in the fedora said, and walked away.
Damn, I thought to myself. So much for being a Good Samaritan.
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