A Tale of Sound and Fury

So I went to Frank’s yesterday for a little birthday get together. Just a core group thing. Hang out, eat something delicious, smoke a bunch of cigars and drink a fair amount of whatever.

As I pulled up I picked my phone up off the seat next to me and thought for a second. I’ve been pretty good over the last bit as far as looking at my phone goes. It’s pretty rare that I’ll do it in a social situation and really…why invite the temptation? I was the nominal “guest of honor” and how fucking rude would it be to let myself get distracted. So I left it on the seat of the truck, picked up my bag with my toys in it (lighters, a notebook, some pipe tobacco ’cause I figured I’d try THAT again, and such), my cigar box and head in.

It was, in Frank parlance “a great hang” with a few of us. Annie made Rattlesnake Pasta which, far as I can tell is chicken fettucini alfredo with some cayenne and jalapenos kicking around in there somewhere. Truly greater than the sum of its parts. I managed to have only ONE heaping plate of the stuff (unlike the first time I’d had it over there, when I had two if not three and ended up spending the next 18 hours just kinda moaning.)

I drank a couple tumblers of “Old Blue-Eyes” a low-proof high sugar mixed drink Frank makes up. Really delicious but not for diabetics and you’d REALLY have to work at it to get drunk on it.

There was a purple frosted birthday cake, the same stories with a couple new people, the same stories with the same people, and a couple new ones from the night of my actual birthday.

The evening wound down, people drifted off and I realized everyone left was watching me smoke the last third of my cigar. So I hotboxed it and we left.

I got in the truck, reached over and there was the dangling end of the purple usb charging cable, sitting on the seat.

My stomach sank. I swear I could feel myself get shorter. Oh what the absolute fuck.

Now, a word about the condition of my truck. I don’t….keep it neat. I go through bursts of cleaning. But then the empty water bottles, full soda bottles, odd half bottle of scotch (in transport to or from the cigar lounge) a bunch of wrappers and nonsense, including a couple full-sized towels (handy for using as seat cushions or toweling off the seat when I leave the windows open during a downpour which…happens more than you might expect.)

So I figured it had just fallen off the seat…probably. But I can see it in my mind’s eye. Sitting there at the end of the tether in the exact place the cable ended. It looked like, well, someone had unplugged it and taken actually some care in leaving the cable back exactly where it was. As I drove home, listening to Molly Millions and Kumiko Yanaka off to find what remained of The Finn (for the sixth time in nine months or so. Judge me if you want, I don’t give much a shit.)

I made a token effort out in the dark. But my heart wasn’t in it. I was deflated and angry at my own foolishness. I tried to page through the tape of the afternoon to see if I could remember the sound of the truck door opening, maybe place it in time. I recall a couple people coming and going. But it could have been anything; Frank has a pretty active household.

After gutting my bag, just in case…on the off chance…because…maybe…no. I went to bed.

And I dreamt of my phone. I really did. Nothing elaborate. Just scenarios where “it was right there” I picked it up and then woke up relieved, then remembered and drifted back off to sleep. I distinctly remember three separate ones, no more substance than that and not worth relating.

Finally upon awakening, before showering or brushing my teeth I set out with a couple garbage bags and a pair of reusable shopping bags to settle the question once and for all, though I already knew it was gone.

Two garbage bags of trash, and both shopping bags full of stuff which included a distressing number of full soda, water, and tea cans and bottles and…a distressing amount of bourbon, scotch and really great rum. If I ever get pulled over by a hardass I’m really going to have a problem. After about 10-15 minutes of that, interrupted by being chased around my car port by a fucking hornet the truth was confirmed. Phone gone. $1400 phone…gone.

While showering (because…eww) I charted out the list of things I was going to have to do. First, hit the AT&T store and have my last shred of patience exorcised by some poor teenager, along with my final fuck. Then there are all the accounts that are automatically logged in on my phone. The worst of which being Amazon, I suppose. But Red Phone Booth, Twitter, etc. Some miscreant could really make me pay for my negligence if they were so inclined.

It all just made me more resigned and glum. I’d get over it. But I had to have the destination mindset in my head. I’d get a new sim card and put it in this POS iPhone 11 (but I repeat myself) I’ve got sitting around (currently wired to my previous phone number. Don’t know if I ever bothered with THAT bit of madness on here.) And I’d spend the rest of the 3 years paying off a $1400 phone (which I got $800 off of because of that goofy AT&T deal) and being mad about it every month.

I bitched a bit on twitter about having my phone stolen to help let off some steam and prevent my head exploding as if someone’d started playing Indian Love Call.

Log on to amazon and go into the security stuff. Because I’m looking at account security settings it sent notifications to all logged in devices, which constitutes most of the things that run on electricity in my house, apparently. PC, a phone, iPad, Fire tablet, etc.

So everything goes off and there’s…a noise. Not one I’m used to though. I figured it was the ipad notification since I don’t use it for anything other than bible study and a goofy ass mobile game. So I went in to the bedroom and looked at the iPad…sound off.

Then what the…holy shit. It was a ring. I had the iPhone in my hand though, so it wasn’t that. WHICH could mean only one thing and I started tearing around the house in a wild-eyed frenzied mood I know quite well but couldn’t describe to the sane.

I typed out “WHOEVER DID THAT, DO IT AGAIN” but didn’t post it.

Got a DM from Cigargoyle saying he’d just called my phone, just in case.

I reached for my iPhone, thinking to just keep hitting redial ’til I found it.

It was gone. I spent 90 seconds yelling “FUCKING REALLY!?! REALLY!!!” at the ceiling before figuring out what I’d done with it and starting the process of dialing while turning and tilting my head with my eyes closed to triangulate.

A few iterations of madness in to the process and I was back at my same bag…which has a big outside pocket on the back.

There it was.

My memory of it sitting on the seat was poignant because I took notice of it at the time. The thing is it wasn’t the LAST memory. As I was focusing on and in that moment I realized it would just be stupid to leave it there when I could just as easily put it in the bag and just not look at it.

After all, what kind of fucking dumbass leaves his phone on the seat of his truck with the doors unlocked?

Someone might steal it.