By Vanessa Cort
I HAD not intended to continue street talk this week, but felt I had to share a couple of amusing incidents that happened to me recently. One of them made me smile to myself as the words of my grandson, Wade, echoed in my head, “Grandma, old age”.

Two weeks ago, I joined a mini-bus in Grove, East Bank to come to Georgetown, as I did most days. Normally, I would check my handbag for my phone and purse before setting out, but for some reason, I only made sure I had my phone.
On arrival in the city, I could not find my purse in my handbag and began to search frantically for it, making me the last person out of the bus.

With extreme embarrassment, I told the conductor I must have left the purse at home. A pleasant and understanding young man, he did his best to placate my obvious agitation saying, “It’s okay mummy, don’t worry”.
But that was not my only worry. For now, I had to figure out how to get to Lodge, where I was headed, without any money.
Though it was a holiday (Diwali) I decided to go to the private washroom, run by my friend, Patricia, hoping against hope that her son would have opened up and I could borrow the fare from him.

The place was closed and as I paused, wondering what I should do, a man nearby spotted me and beckoned me over. He thought I needed to use the washroom, but as I explained the situation to him, he kindly gave me the money.
As the day progressed, I ceased worrying about the purse, confident that I would find it at home on my return. However, this was not so. I searched my home thoroughly, looking in the most unlikely places. I unpacked my rather large handbag at least three times and found no purse.

I then thought about the last place I had used the purse, which was at a ‘greens’ stand close to my home and felt I must have left it there. But the young owner of the stand reminded me that it was busy when I stopped to shop and she did not notice a purse. I concluded that someone must have picked it up and began to lament its loss.

All of this is just a backdrop to what happened as a result of losing my purse and its contents of cash, but more importantly, of my pension book and ID card, which were in a pocket of the purse.
I then was faced with the daunting task of getting replacements to these and decided to try for my pension book first. So I dutifully went to the Ministry of Human Services and Social Security, where I had uplifted the book and was told by a staff member that I needed to first report the loss at the police station. I asked if I could go to Brickdam Police Station and she replied in the affirmative.

My first mishap was that I actually walked past the entrance to the station and shortly after that, the rain came down and I was forced to shelter. I then asked someone for the entrance to the station and he told me I would have to retrace my steps and look out for a blue gate. I discovered that the gate was set back from the sidewalk, behind a big tree. So it was no wonder I missed it the first time.

The officer to whom I spoke informed me that as the purse was lost in Grove, (really Golden Grove, though everyone calls it Grove) I would have to make my report at the Grove Police Station.
I cannot say why I decided that I needed to report the matter at the new Grove/Diamond police station, situated at the back of the Grove scheme, but I did, and this is where my ‘adventure’ began…more next week.