Who loses their phone in New York and gets it back in Canada? I do.
This story starts at New York. On my last day there, on the LAST taxi cab I took I lost my Iphone. After four days of stressing out on possibly losing it - which I have a character defect of consistently losing things - and managing not to until the very last moment is a smack on an already shitty situation.
I always describe losing a phone or anything important as sort of similar to losing a limb in the sense that part of your life is in that inanimate object and without it, functioning "normally" is near impossible. You realize how much you rely on your phone and what make this a particularly shitty situation is the constant reminder throughout your day that nope, you're phone is not here to assist you.
So how did I get it back?
Sheer luck.
On my way to Canada, in the middle of accepting the circumstances and listening to a tempermental pregnant lady bitch about not having enough space as she tilts her chair squashing me and hit her husband for telling her to stop throwing tantrums and an overall bitch, my mother tells me the cab driver has called her telling her he has my phone. I couldn't even be excited (the pregnant lady might have something to do with it) because I knew there was still a few more steps ahead before I get reunited with my phone. Still I was holding on the hope that I was given.
When we got to Canada, I contacted the driver and instructed him to drop the phone at the hotel we were staying at. I figured I'd rather have a company with a reputation handle my phone and be treated like a customer (read: better than I deserve just like how this situation turned out). Long story short, the cab driver did as I said and I got my phone back.
Unfortunately it didn't go that smoothly.
I will smooth things out because this post is getting WAY TOO LONG.
Basically, I ended up calling the hotel the day after only to be told they had no phone in their possession. This would become a week-long ordeal where I call the hotel and the cab driver back and forth. My phone went from being lost, found, and then lost again.
My mom started thinking the cab driver lied about handing it in and I argued that if he wanted to keep it he didn't have to call me.
Finally, after pulling some strings and befriending staff, my mother uncovers the real story that my phone was already on its way. Turns out the night the cab driver did dropped my phone at the hotel and the staff shipped it right away. So when I inquired about it the next day, there was no phone in their possession. No one lied, just a lack of communication on the guy who shipped my phone.
But I forgive him because I now have my limb back and I feel complete again.
Thanks MUHAMMAD MUSTAFAH for doing the right thing, W Hotel for being graceful and not treating me like the daily annoyance that I was, and the higher power for aligning the universe and reuniting me with my phone from New York, of all places.
And my friends for sending good thoughts because that always help even if it just helps me sleep at night.
Now, let's try not to go through this again.
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