As I’ve mentioned before, I work at a bank. People who sign in to see a representative have to walk around my desk, which is a large L shape, to reach the waiting area. On Friday I had just signed someone in and she was walking around my desk when she stopped.

“Um … There’s a hundred dollar bill on the floor.”

She pointed down at a section of the floor that was blocked by my desk, I came around and sure enough there was Benjamin’s fat face staring up at me.

Normally when someone drops something like that, and it has happened before but not a bill of that size, we can’t find the owner since very few people write their names on all of their bills. Per the standard procedure, I took the bill to my supervisor, let her know the circumstances, and went back to my desk. As it happened, the man who signed in before the woman was up at the teller window and I could see he was emptying out his pockets as if he was looking for something. I got the attention of the teller helping him and asked her if he had dropped something. She confirmed that he was missing a hundred dollar bill. The money was returned to the man, who tried to thank me. I pointed out the woman, who was seated in the lobby, and told him it had been her that had found it. He went over to her and spent several minutes chatting with her.

Just like that, I feel slightly better about humanity.

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