Losing Your Phone

The world is a different place when you lose your phone. You have no idea how reliant you are on a miniature computer that fits in your pocket until it’s no longer in your pocket. I know this because I lost my phone on Friday night. I left it in the Uber. It was terrible, it was amateur, it was a rookie mistake. I felt like a loser in every sense of the word. I noticed something was amiss pretty quickly. I got out of the Uber, went to 7-Eleven, and patted an empty pocket on the way out the door. I sheepishly confessed to my friend that I lost my phone and I didn’t know if I left it in the Uber or at the bar. Yes, I was a little bit drunk. It was Friday fucking night, what did you expect? We called the bar but nobody had turned it in. My friend called the Uber driver and left a message. Then there was nothing left to do but play the waiting game and it was getting kind of late so I went home.

I got home and started changing all my passwords. I changed my email passwords, my bank password, and my Facebook password (ain’t no way I’m getting status hacked on top of everything else). I tried to change my Venmo account but stopped when it tried to send verification to me via text. I’m changing my password for a reason, what the fucking fuck!?!

I had to work the next morning and wake up by 8:30 am. This is when not having a phone started to become an actual burden. I use my phone for everything, including as an alarm clock. Luckily I’m a spoiled American and used my iPad as an alarm clock. I woke up Saturday morning and left to take the bus to work. I got to the stop and wanted to check the arrival time but I couldn’t because I didn’t have my phone. I waited for a while. I’m not really sure how long I waited for. I couldn’t check because I didn’t have my phone. I finally got on a bus. It was an insanely long bus ride. I couldn’t do anything to pass the time. I couldn’t listen to music, read the news, check sports scores, stalk people on Facebook, or play Trivia Crack because I didn’t have my phone. All I could do was stare out the window. Along the way I saw a group of old ladies dressed up as pirates. It was an unusual sight, even for San Francisco, so I wanted to take a picture. I couldn’t though because I didn’t have my phone.

The Uber driver eventually got in touch with my friend and he promised to bring it back. I tried to meet up with him a few times but it’s hard to communicate through third parties. I had to borrow other people’s phones to text my friend to text the Uber driver and hope that the messages got through. I finally got my phone back earlier today. The Uber driver was actually really nice about the whole thing and refused to take any cash as a reward/tip/display of gratitude or gas money.

I went through the whole weekend without my phone in my pocket. I survived but I never want to experience that kind of anxiety again. I never knew what time it was. I couldn’t GPS so I didn’t know where I was. I would occasionally forget that I didn’t have it and check my pocket, remember it’s not there, and get sad. I would feel phantom vibrations. I couldn’t call anyone, I couldn’t text anyone, I could only talk to people that were in the same room as me. I felt disconnected and alone. It was like being in a different time, a forgotten era. I don’t ever want to go back there. I vow that I’ll never be that stupid again. At least I hope I’ll never be that stupid again.

Critically Rated at 3/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young


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