My first act as a thirtysomething has happened. The marker of things to come. That thing that makes you realize your mind was a terrible thing to waste…
I forgot my damn phone in a taxi yesterday.
I’m not 100% on how it happened, and only came to the conclusion after tearing apart my bag, my pants and half my apartment looking for it. My best guess is that it slid off the seat without me noticing in the jerk-n-go taxi ride to work yesterday (did I mention I’m teaching an hour and a half a day still? Somethings are harder to leave than you think – especially at 200 RMB/hr).
Like Sichuan food through my colon, I went through the stages of grief lightning fast and arrived at the little touted 6th phase – the one that gets me a new phone.
Still I’m a tad bummed about the whole thing. It ruins what has been a bit of a point of pride with me. Having travelled to some 12 countries in the last four odd years, I’ve not lost or had stolen a single thing.
We attempted to call the phone several times, and once or twice someone answered, but said nothing. I’m curious now if they were just waiting for a ransom price to be shouted out. We then sent a text message with promises of a reward for its return, but alas, it’s yielded no results.
It’s got me thinking too, cell phones have to be the easiest thing to return to their owner should the finder have any amount of honesty. However, generally no one would expect it to be returned. It says something about how we think of strangers, and also, how strangers are.
What do you guys think? Do you think it’s the same the world over? If you found someone’s phone (or other personally identifiable thing for that matter), would you return it? Do you expect others to do so?
