New to America from Spain, I was working my first job at a health club in New York City. One day I was sent to the bank to get 50 dollars in singles for the register.

As I crossed a busy intersection on my way back to the club a gust of wind blew the money from my bag. Dollar bills swirled every which way. Running like crazy, I grabbed what I could. Cars stopped. Passersby descended on the money like vultures. My boss will kill me! I thought. Then, unbelievably, people started bringing me money. Businessmen and women, taxi drivers, little kids-strangers thrust dollar bills into my bag.

When I returned to the club, I explained what had happened, promising to replace the missing money.

"But Alejandro," the manager said, counting the bills, "you gave me too much. There are fifty-two dollars in here."

Only in New York!

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