I couldn't be a criminal

I found someone's debit card in the ATM today, as I pulled out my weekly allowance.

I suddenly had, in my hand, a solution to a lot of problems. I could use this card to take care of a lot of things. I could fill my tank with gas. I could go buy my textbooks. I could get groceries and dogfood. Granted, eventually the money would run out, but until it did, the possibilities were virtually endless. This was the opportunity I have needed for a long time.

"Next in line, please."

Every day since leaving the Marine Corps, I have struggled with the fact that I am no longer monetarily rich. I no longer have a steady paycheck that more than covers my basic needs. For ten long months, I have grown used to being poor. To barely making ends meet. To having daily conversations with debt collectors. To having to starve my dogs for a couple days until I had enough to buy them more food. To letting myself starve so I wouldn't grow dependent upon the aid of others. To dodging all offerings of help.

I've grown used to it. It's fine. But with that debit card, belonging to some lady named Amber, I could be rich for at least a day, if I was smart about it. I do need a haircut.

"I can help whomever's next over here!"

Of course, I would have to be smart about it. I would have to skirt the law. That's easy. I'd make my purchases quickly, in the course of an hour, and then throw the card away. Fill up my gas tank, buy my groceries, buy my textbooks and then drop the plastic in some sewer. There'd be no time to track me down, and if I did it quickly enough, Amber wouldn't even know what hit her until it was too late.

And then she'd just have to report her losses to the bank and she'd recoup them, right? Yeah. Sure.

"Sir, I can help you over here."

But no. Banks are unreliable. It's hard to prove a stolen card. And until she could, and until the report were finalized, Amber would be out a few hundred bucks. She'd suffer then. Like I suffer. A few hundred bucks right now would be a godsend; a blessing; a miracle. Losing hundreds of dollars would be the opposite.

Amber could have kids. Not dogs, but kids. Amber could be paying rent or a mortgage. Amber could be paying her own way through college.

And Amber could be a virtuous young girl with absolutely no blemishes on her character, and has done nothing to deserve such spite as theft.

"Sir? How can I help you?"

I put the card on the bank counter.

"I found this in the ATM. Just thought I'd drop it off."

"Oh, well, how kind of you. Thank you."

"Yep."

I couldn't be a criminal. I'm not that guy.