Dave and I often wound up meeting in St. Louis cause it used to be a city we could both drive to in a few hours. In 2002, I got there and realized my wallet was missing. It must have fallen out of my pocket when I stopped to use the bathroom at a rest area. My dad was kind enough to wire me some cash. But Dave and I spent the evening lost in a sketchy part of town trying to find a Western Union. And then we couldn’t get into any of the riverboat casinos or gentlemen's clubs since I didn’t have ID. So I really felt like a heel when I got home and found my wallet sitting on the coffee table.
When we went back in 2003, Dave gave me this. I haven’t forgotten my wallet since.