WTF?

Next event in the What-The-Fuck Olympics: It's 4am. I'm sound asleep on the couch when there cometh a tap-tap-tapping at my chamber door. Now it sounds like someone is trying to break it down, and then they try a key without success. By this time, I'm up off the couch, my ‘mother-fucker-be-good' stick in one hand and a king-sized Maglite in the other.
Silence.
I put the bat down, turn on the flashlight and quickly yank open the door. No one there, no one walking away, no one around. I look down, and what do my bloodshot eyes behold but a dog-eared brown leather wallet. I pick it up and flip through the ID's. College kid, lives across town. His ATM withdrawl slips since the first of the year include locales in Scotland, Sweden, and a Russian bank card with a balance of $1000 in his checking. There are some business cards from someplace in the valley, out in California. There's his social Security Card. There's a high school ID for some chick on the west side of town. Plus, $180 in dead presidents smiling back at me.
I look around again. Nothing, nobody around. Close the door, the wheels already spinning. Some college Trustafarian winds up on my side of the tracks for whatever reason, gets wasted and confused. Why did he try to get in my door if he lived on the other side of town? I've been here for a few years, which eliminates a case of mistaken booty call. What's the story behind the withdrawals in Europe and the California business cards?
I don't have an answer for those, but do you know the old ethics question about finding a wallet and giving it back? Here's my answer: one hour later, I'm $180 richer, and the parcel in question is in a mailbox between his address and mine.
Let him try to figure that shit out. I'm going back to sleep.