I had to go into the city from Brooklyn for an audition, and to help a friend. I didn't pack my flute in my backpack like usual, but took it in an open zipper bag instead. I hopped on the train to LES, surfaced. Broke as usual, my cell was out of service, so I stopped in the smoke shop to get change for the payphone. Hustled to the payphone, made my calls, hmmph! Noone can meet me for another hour. Now What? Aw hell, I'll just go to my local watering hole and have a drink and wait.

I sling my bag back over my shoulder, feel for my flute – it's gone. Panic. In the street, I start hyperventilating. I cannot see in front of me but I start running anyway. Even though I know this area, all of a sudden I am completely lost. My flute is my world and I just lost it. I hailed a taxi because I couldn't feel my legs and took it back to the smoke shop. frantic.

I darted into the smoke shop asking "excuse me, did you see a black leather case sitting on this counter? It's my flute and I left it here when I got change just 5 minutes ago – did you see it?" the guy behind the counter hadn't, but a customer told me he's around the store all the time, grew up in the neighborhood, would keep an eye out, and I should leave him my number. This cat's name we'll say is "K". I took his number instead since my cellie was out… and gave him my friend "G"s number.

I was a wreck. As I was crying I traced my steps back and forth from the payphone to the smoke shop six or more times. I talked to all of the merchants, waiters, etc. around the area and left G's number all over. I even checked in with the subway, even though I knew I had left my flute on the counter of the smoke shop. I finally met up with G and crew in LES and we went up to his apartment.

Once upstairs I lost my mind. I cried and explained to my folks that I would've rather lost a limb than lost my flute. I felt stupid and na..ve in a big naked city – open and allowed myself to be violated, to be swallowed by the belly of the beast, to hit rock bottom. I told them without my flute I'm like any other schlep bum on the street. I felt empty, like the life of a sister had been taken from me. And I'm seriously not being melodramatic.

The only thing I had possibly going for me is the shop had video cameras rolling and I could review it the next day when the owner got in. There was nothing else I can do that evening - i thought to file a police report but was too distraught. I called "K' to thank him and told him I'd be in touch but to please look out for it. He said he'd put up a sign offering a reward. Huh. That didn't come to pass.

I hopped the train back to Brooklyn, shaking still with disbelief. I couldn't go straight home. I wanted a drink and needed to chillout. I got off the train, went to my favorite lil bar in my hood, hoping my friend who bartends would be working, but it was her night off. A mos excellent and unassuming reggae dj was on the decks and reggae always heals my soul. My watermelon vodka drink with extra vodka was starting to do the trick… I was unwinding a bit.

I stepped outside for a smoke when two rastas walked up to me and passed me a blunt! This never happens in New York! California – a natural occurrence – Brooklyn? You betta have your own! I puffed and gave thanks and told them how I just lost my flute. The rasta looks at me and says "You're not a flute player!" … I said "Yes I am.", he says "No, you're not!", we went back and forth like this for a playful bit, then he tells me to come around the corner. From his van parked there, he pulls out a flute case – not MY flute – that would have been insane! But a flute – he tells me – play something for us… I put the flute together and begin playing on the street in front of the bar. Meanwhile the other rasta is asking me where do I play and such and that I should be playing all the time and make my living from playing my flute… I was learning lessons all the way around. It was as if everything had been predestined and i was living out a play or a dream sequence - it felt that synchronicitous. At my lowest point, I found inspiration and support in the most unlikely place.

Some drama started brewing between some other cat and one of the rastas so I shimmied back inside the bar to my spot with my drink - my name is paul and that's between y'all! there was a handsome guy who had come in shortly after me and had sat down next to me. I hadn't really paid him any mind as I was wrapped up in my drama… anyway I sat back down and he asked me what kind of drink was that? I told him and we started talking and drinking and eventually dancing a bit. His name is "D". D turned out to be my guardian angel and the integral character in this whole story.

I told D how I just lost my flute and about the rastas and such. He drove me home a bit later and when I went to hug him goodbye (I had established in conversation that as attractive as he was of course he is married!). He hugged me goodbye and handed me something. He insisted I take it as something toward my new flute. He further explained he is just that type of person, that he didn't want anything for it, and he really likes my energy and wants me to be happy and successful with my music. I cried and insisted he take it back. He wouldn't.

I put the $100 bill he gave me in my armoire drawer. As broke as I was, it was not to be touched except for the purchase of my new flute. I was amazed at the turn of events of this evening and the generosity of D. I went to work the next day, and repeatedly called the store until the store owner answered, took a cab down to see the video on my lunch hour.

Once we found the right day and time on the video, I saw me walk into the store, and leave my flute on the counter just as I thought. About five minutes later, "K" walked in, put his hand on my flute, walked to the back of the store and walked out. K was the dude who gave me his number the night before but claimed he didn't see anyone take my flute. A minute later, K walked in again, bought a lottery ticket, and stood right in front of my flute and scratched off his ticket while another guy came in and swiped my flute from the counter.

I went back to work. I called the police. They told me I'd have to be at the scene of the crime in order to file a report. I called 'D" and asked him to meet me at the smoke shop after work. I was a bit impulsive when I saw D, and I grabbed his phone and called "K" and started outright accusing him of taking my flute. D tried to calm me down, and over a few drinks, he talked some sense into me. He explained that he's been around long enough to know that the police weren't going to do a darn thing - except maybe deter the one person that might know where my flute was. if anyone had the key to getting my flute back, it was K, and pissing him off or threatening police action was just pushing him farther away from me. So I called K back and apologized, upsidedown and back again and told him I'm just out of my mind… and that i was sorry for what i had said earlier, that i wasn't trying to involve the police, that my flute is my whole life and I just neeed it back.

To that, he responded - "I know who has your flute, I just wanted to make sure he still had it before I told you." Apparently he had called G just a few minutes before telling G he knew where my flute was and they didn't want any police involvement.

I ended up having to go three different places in LES to meet the cat who had my flute. We tried to meet him at a caf.., but the police pulled up for a different matter (the tip jar in the cafe had just been stolen!), and the guy with my flute thought I was trying to put the 'sting' on him.

In the end he met me back at the smoke shop and handed me my flute. I hugged him and thanked him and hugged the shop guys too. I'm sure they thought I was crazy but I was just overwhelmed with joy and realized I am so so blessed.

I handed the theif the $100 D had given me (I asked if that was okay). A lot of folks say I shouldn't have given him a reward, but those folks don't understand how precious my flute is to me, and how much it's really worth, even on the street he could get a grand or so for it….

D drove me home and I gave him back the $100 I had in my armoire. I haven't seen D again since then – like he was my guardian angel specifically put in my path right when I needed him the most… and then he was gone! (angels work that way)

I feel so blessed and learned a BUNCH of lessons from this adventure. 1) INSURE MY FLUTE. I haven't taken it out of my home since then. 2) engrave flute and case with markings to make it unique and easy to identify. 3) write down serial number and have in a safe place. 4) never put flute in an open bag – always have it strapped to me in a drawstring or zipper bag. (I am in fact thinking of a designing/making a special bag for my flute),

I also learned so much about New Yorkers and how it's such a huge myth that they are mean or unkind. On the contrary. I find them to be like tortoises – a tough shell but once you get to know them they are all squish. From the guys in the smoke shop to K, to the guy who returned my flute, to D and G and all my friends who supported me, even my co-workers where I was temping – who allowed me way more than an hour on my lunch hour to go see the video at the smoke shop - I give you the hugest thank yous with all of my heart.

Hopefully one day I'll be a bigger fish in this big pond and make a name for myself with my flute music… it's my dream and losing and finding my flute made me realize how precious a gift I have been given. And losing and getting my flute back, it's just an incredible and true new york story!!!