So I’m super frustrated. I tried to do the right thing, right? I forget about the wallet. A year goes by. A year, a calendar year. I go back to D.C. I go in town, I call a friend, we go to a restaurant, just a random restaurant. We sit down, and the waiter comes up to take our order, and I go, “Justin?” And he goes, “how do you know my name?” And I go, “dude, I have your wallet.” And he goes, “oh, do you have it on you?” I go, “no, I don’t fucking walk around with your wallet.” “I don’t go, ‘I got my wallet, and I got Justin’s wallet. Now, I’m ready to go out.’ No, you fucking psycho.” And he goes, “do you want to hear about today’s specials?” And I go, “do you want to acknowledge that this is an amazing moment in both of our lives?” And he goes, “what do you mean?” “What do I mean? “I found your wallet in a cab in D.C. a year ago. “I don’t know how many cabs are here, but I think it’s a lot. “I got told no 100 times by 100 people trying to find you. “My hotel room used to look like an episode of NCIS. “There was pins and charts connecting shit to each other. “I spoke to your father, who’s not a fan. “I don’t know if you knew that or not. “I come to a restaurant at random, “I get seated in your section, “and I recognize you from your I.D. “That’s burned into my memory. You don’t think that’s fucking amazing?” And he goes, “we have a prime rib special. We also have a penne pasta.” I can’t eat. I’m like, “what the fuck?” He comes by, I go, “look, I don’t want to make a big thing here, “but I do remember that I have your wallet in my bag… “my bag in my hotel room. If you want to come by, I will give you your wallet.” And he goes, “okay.” I go back to the hotel. I hear a knock at the door. And now, I’m expecting him to lose his shit. I think the situation merits freaking the fuck out. I think he was playing it cool, and now he’s gonna be like, “I didn’t want to say this earlier. We should open a surf shop in Maui together, you know?” Or, like, “this is my newborn son. I want you to have him,” like that shit. So I hear a knock at the door. I open the door, I’m like, “hey.” And he goes, “hey, you got my wallet?” And I go, “yeah,” and I give it to him, and he goes, “cool.” And he turns around, and he walks away. No. It is not cool. So I open the door, and I see him about to get on the elevator. I go, “hey, Justin!” And he goes, “yeah.” And I go, “your dad’s right… you’re a fucking asshole”, and you’re never gonna amount to anything,” and I shut the fucking door.

You fucked up, Justin. You could’ve been here, man.