Or maybe you found a lock box under a rock by the creek, or buried in the backyard.
Remember that rush you felt?
This gave me the same rush today...
A 4GB USB thumb drive.
I found it in the street white out on my run today. It took me a few steps to realize what I'd seen, and obviously I couldn't just leave it there. So, I had to backtrack, pick it up, and hurry back to the group so I didn't miss any of the debate about how good looking the Japanese women's curling team is, and how Americans should ALWAYS pull for Americans in the Olympics and those who don't just don't love America, and how Ellen isn't that great on American Idol, and how if Susan Boyle was remotely attractive her singing wouldn't seem as good as it does.
Truthfully though, my mind was on the USB drive in my pocket. What could be on it?
Confidential Apple design documents for the next iThing?
Oooo, blackmail photos?
(Gasp)...(in a hushed, reverent voice)...the screenplay for StarWars Episode VII?!?
I couldn't wait to get back to the office to plug it in and find out.
I cut the run short, skipped my cool down, walked briskly inside, and bolted off the elevator.
Just out of the corner of my eye I saw a woman waiting, patiently, alone, in reception. Being a Midwesterner, I asked if she'd been helped yet. "Yes, I'm waiting for Doug [MyLastName]."
Hey, that's me.
Apparently I'd been scheduled to interview this woman and wasn't ever actually told that I'd be interviewing her.
Still sweaty and in my running duds, I begged her for 5 minutes to change. (I spent 30 seconds of that 5 minutes double-checking my calendar (nothing scheduled for 12:30) and inbox (no emails from HR or my boss)).
Not only did I look like a doof, and the company looked like a doofy company, but it was going to be another 45 minutes before I could see what was on the drive!
The interview went fine. I shook her hand, passed her off, and went straight to my computer.
The business end of the USB drive was squished. It'd been run over more than once. A little bent tin wasn't going to keep me from my treasure hunt/spy mission.
Deftly wielding the file doogee from my fingernail clippers like a very small pry bar, I reformed the protective tin sheath's cross-section into a rough approximation of a rectangle. Close enough...
Usually a responsible person, I did pause to think for a second about the fact that I was putting unknown "Tab A" into "Slot B" and how virus-ridden "Tab A" could be. (Note: I'm typically on the "Tab A" side of this conversation.) I shrugged and decided to spin the wheel... there's always
It took a few tries, and ultimately a pretty good bit of force, to get it in. (TWSS)
Finally the rusty lock was broken and the lid to the treasure chest was creaking open... and...
it was empty.
Numbers: 4.5 miles