How Can I Get Rid of Him

uǝǝʇxᴉs ɹǝʇdɐɥɔ

After dinner, when I got home, I realized my wallet was missing. I started to panic. Inside it were not only my ID and various cards but also a photo of me and my mom from my childhood. I could replace the cards, but that photo was one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable.

I searched myself and my home thoroughly, but there was no sign of my wallet. I called my sister, and she said they didn't have it either. I thought if I hadn't lost it on the way, then it must have been left at the restaurant.

We had chosen a small restaurant that day, located in an alley. The owner seemed not to care much about money. The restaurant only had space for about ten tables and operated for a few fixed hours in the evening, not willing to serve after closing time. By the time I returned home, it was already past 10 o'clock, well beyond the restaurant's business hours, and I couldn't get through to them on the phone.

The next day, I waited at the restaurant's entrance when they opened. A waiter led me to a back room, saying they needed to talk to their supervisor.

Their supervisor was dressed quite casually... in his thirties, not wearing traditional Chinese attire like the other waitstaff. He was in a modern casual outfit, lounging comfortably in a chair. One hand was playing with a cellphone, while the other held a cigarette, looking completely at ease and not at all like he was here to work.

I knocked on the door lightly and said, "Hello..."

The manager looked up, chuckled softly, and asked, "Here for your wallet?"

"Yes, yes," I nodded quickly, a bit embarrassed. "I think I left it here after eating yesterday."

The manager pulled a wallet out of a drawer and tossed it to me, then continued to look down at his game. "Check if anything's missing."

I flipped through the contents of the wallet and found everything intact, feeling surprised. Usually, lost and found services verify information first, don't they? So, I asked him, "Everything's here. But you didn't verify my identity at all. You just believed I was the owner?"

"Checked your ID photo," the manager looked up briefly, smiled, and said, "I remember good-looking faces."

"Thank you." I was unexpectedly praised like this. It seemed like anyone who becomes a manager knows how to speak well and act in different ways with different people.

"Next time you come, just say you're a friend of Jin Yu. No need for reservations or waiting in line," the manager paused his game, winked at me, and said, "I'm Jin Yu."

"Okay, thank you," I politely nodded to him, feeling that this manager was quite open. Since this restaurant usually requires reservations made days in advance, and only a couple of tables are available for walk-ins each day, it seemed that my lost wallet had some value.

I forgot about this incident when I went back. It wasn't until a few days later when I spontaneously made plans to meet two old university friends that I remembered. All the popular restaurants had long waiting lists, and I suddenly thought of this private restaurant. When I mentioned it to my friends, they were excited and wanted to go there since there was no wait.