Here’s what happened. At an unnamed grocery store I was moving through the checkout line and, as the clerk scanned the final item, she said please insert my credit card and pay $99.03.

And that’s when the panic set in. I rifled through all my pockets and my billfold but failed in the search for my dictator, lover and keeper – also known as a Visa card.

What? I had held up the line for 10 minutes and, as a reward, this fellow wants to pay nearly a “C” note for my grub? That couldn’t be right; I protested; announced loudly I would be right back.

After all, even if I didn’t come back, at least I wasn’t holding up a column of Christmas foodies any longer. But the checker said the good deed was done – the generous gentleman’s card had approved Cal’s collection, as well as his own much smaller purchase.

Go figure. And if you figure it out … let me know.