Losing or misplacing things seems to be a common occurrence in my life. Rings, pens, gloves, phones, scarves, my mother in the produce section of the grocery store…nothing is exempt. In fact, a few of my posts over the years have been about these mishaps, although in most cases I lose things when I’m trying to keep them safe. Figure that one out!
I would say that I am a responsible person and do my best to take care of my possessions. Although I would also say that I tend to be a bit…accident prone. You can be a responsible human being and accident prone at the same time, can’t you? (Please don’t answer that question if your answer is no.)
Well at any rate, I’m sure y’all can guess what this post is about, judging from the title and the first two paragraphs themselves. On Friday I lost something.
I lost my phone.
While my phone is no iPhone 12 Pro, it is nice enough that I worried someone would steal it rather than return it to me. And seeing as how I’d just purchased this phone in August, I really, really, really did not want to buy a new one.
My friend and I had been shopping at the local mall, then gotten food at a fast-casual restaurant. Since I have a propensity to misplace things (and remembering how I’d “lost” my mask that morning, only to find it in my pocket several minutes later), I double checked the table before we left. There was nothing on it but our dishes.
We pulled into the parking lot where we’d left my car hours before and began our goodbyes. I gathered my purse and bag from the mall, then checked my pocket for my phone. Of course it wasn’t there, and we tore apart her car looking for it. I dumped everything out of my purse and turned my pockets inside out.
My friend called the restaurant we’d just left and asked about it, but they reported that no phones had been found by employees or customers. She went to work, I went home, and prayed that I’d find it. Although buying a new one wouldn’t be the end of the world, unexpected bills are ~ n o t ~ f u n ~ and I like to avoid them whenever possible. I had contemplated going back up to the restaurant myself to have a look-see, but decided against it since I’d be without any means of communication should anything happen.
I tried to figure out how I could’ve lost it. I was almost 100% positive it’d been in my coat pocket, since I had specifically checked the table. It must have fallen out, probably in the parking lot when I dropped into my friend’s black sedan.
Just over an hour later, my friend called me via my brother’s phone with the exciting news: “Guess what! The manager of the restaurant called and someone turned your phone in! It was found in the parking lot.”
Hallelujah! My boyfriend and I drove up to retrieve it. I was so excited–and disheartened when the girl behind the counter handed it over to me. The bottom right corner of the screen protector was seriously cracked, looking as though it’d been run over while lounging on the asphalt. It wouldn’t turn on, though I felt it vibrate when I took multiple screenshots (to test if it was still awake under the black screen).
My boyfriend was optimistic it could be fixed, I was ~ e x t r e m e l y ~ discouraged. Pop, however, shared my boyfriend’s optimism, and both advised me to bring it somewhere to be looked at before I bought another. To top it off, the top I’d bought at the mall (and wanted to wear that night) was too large and I had to return it for another. Talk about an off night.
The next morning I dragged my brother with me to a smartphone repair shop (and made him do the talking, don’t judge). The guy behind the counter plugged it in, then told us he thought it was only a broken screen. He didn’t think the motherboard was smashed, which, if that were the case, would mean bye-bye-phone. We left it in their authorized service provider hands and ran around on errands, as long as we were in town.
Three hours and a phone call later, we were back at the shop. My phone had awakened from its pressure-induced coma and was happily broadcasting all the messages I’d received in the last twenty-four hours. I swiped my debit card, a receipt was signed, and we were on our way home.
A screen repair at a fraction of the cost of a new phone. I couldn’t help but think of stories Mum has told me from when she was growing up. Payphones were on many a corner, while cell phones were a thing of the future. Now we don’t leave home without them!
My, how things change.