The CDC Card

For Christmas either last year or the year before my parents got me this really great, silver clutch wallet. It’s for travel and can hold your money and your passport and – who knew we’d need this – your CDC card.

I loaded up my silver wallet for the trip to Switzerland, so glad to finally christen it!

During our trip, Dad and I were going to go for a drive one day. I asked my aunt and godmother Reeli to recite for me her cell number. When asked why, I told her I was going to put it on a slip of paper and put it in the plastic sleeve which is protecting my CDC card. (We brought our cards with us not knowing when we might be asked to show it. The answer is never. We were never asked to show it).

Why put the number in there? “Because if something happens to us, whoever finds our bodies needs to know who to call”

OK, perhaps a bit of catastrophizing but whatever. I’m a planner.

Fortunately the number was never needed for this purpose.

We were in the Zurich airport heading back home when Dad and I tried to get online using the airport WiFi and found it not possible to do without jumping through some hoops. We decided we would sit and enjoy a nice lunch at Sprungli before digging in to that further. At the end of the meal, I took Dad’s boarding pass and, along with mine, wandered downstairs to find the kiosk we needed. I found it, scanned our boarding passes, and out came a receipt. On that receipt was a code and that code made it possible to get online.

I don’t know why one has to travel a serious gauntlet to get onto the WiFi in the Zurich airport, but you do.

I returned to our lunch table and we both logged on. Once connected, my phone blew up with texts and voicemails from my godmother Reeli. The texts read something to the effect of “please call me. You dropped your CDC card and someone has it for you!”

First off I was VERY annoyed. I was proud that I’d done pretty well keeping track of all my important things in my fancy silver wallet thus far, and now I’d gone and lost an important piece of paperwork and hadn’t even noticed it was gone.

I called Reeli up and she updated me “I got a call from someone who found your card which had my mobile number on it,” (SEE IT WAS A GOOD IDEA!) “as it turns out, he is flying to Reykjavik on the same flight as you so he will give you the card at the gate.”

I asked if she caught his name.

“No, sorry, I don’t remember it, but I told him ‘she has red hair and she’s very beautiful!’ “

It’s in this moment that I can hear how pleased my godmother is at the possibility of setting up a meet-cute for me. I just want my card back, but she has very different plans!

Dad and I made our way to the gate and it wasn’t long before a tall, very handsome guy ambled up to the empty ticket counter and stood in front of it expectantly, my card in his hand.

I approached and pointed at my card, “Thank you, I think that’s mine.”

He handed me my card and said “Your aunt is very nice!”. I agreed with him, then proceeded to ramble on about why the card had a cell number on it (can you imagine how that sounded?! I may have over-shared about our bodies possibly needing identifying by a local but I’m not sure now. It’s all a blur. No wonder I’m single). I realized what an ass I was making of myself and shut up, suddenly.

“Thanks again!” I chirped, ending the one-sided conversation in the best I-swear-I’m-not-insane tone I could manage, and walked away.

He was way to young for me anyway.

Me and my charming match-maker. She tried, I’ll give her that!

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