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That cold January night,I was growing sick of my life in San Francisco.There I was,walking home at one in the morning after a tiring practice at the theatre.With the opening night only a week away,I was still learning my lines.I was having trouble dealing with my part-time job at the bank and my acting at night at the same time.As I walked,I thought seriously about giving up both acting and San Francisco.City life had become too much for me.
As I walked down empty streets under tall buildings,I felt very small and cold.I began running,both to keep warm and to keep away from any possible robbers.Very few people were still out except a few sad-looking homeless people under blankets.
About a block from my apartment,I heard a sound behind me.I turned quickly,half expecting to see someone with a knife or a gun.The street was empty.All I saw was a shining streetlight.Still,the noise had made me nervous,so I started to run faster.Not until I reached my apartment building and unlocked the door did I realize what the noise had been.It had been my wallet falling to the sidewalk.
Suddenly I wasn't cold or tired anymore.I ran out of the door and back to where I'd heard the noise.Although I searched the sidewalk anxiously for fifteen minutes,my wallet was nowhere to be found.
Just as I was about to give up the search,I heard the garbage truck pull up to the sidewalk next to me.When a voice called from the inside,"Alisa Camacho"I thought I was dreaming.How could this man know my name?The door opened,and out jumped a small red-haired man with an amused look in his eye."Is this what you're looking for" he asked,holding up a small square shape.
It was nearly 3 a.m. by the time I got into bed.I wouldn't get much sleep that night,but I had gotten my wallet back.I also had gotten back some enjoyment of city life.I realized that the city couldn't be a bad place as long as people were willing to help each other.
