My iPhone mishap…

So most of you know that this past Saturday, I “lost” my iPhone.  Distraught was an understatement.  This is how the story goes…

It was a girl’s day in Fairhope.  The weather was gorgeous and we somehow tricked the boys into working in the yard while we ran off to Fairhope for a little bit of shopping therapy.  The day was going great…UNTIL (bumbumbuuummm…) my phone disappeared.  And I mean just disappeared.  It was on the table and then it wasn’t on the table.  My mom and I stopped into a small corner coffee shop for a chance to just sit.  Almost immediately, I dropped my purse on the table, a shopping bag, and left the stroller pushed up against it.  I ran off to the bathroom with Emerson for a quick diaper change.  My mom stepped away about 3 feet from the table to order the coffee.  She even grabbed my purse to ensure its safety.  I returned shortly to find my mom sitting there with our 2 cups of coffee and clear table.  I then started looking for my addiction…I mean my iPhone.  And it was gone.  *panic*  My iPhone was gone.  OMG.  I am freaking out.  So although I know that I laid it on the table, I check all of my bags, check the bathroom, the stroller, the tables around me, the sidewalks that we took to get there.  It’s gone.  GONE!!!  We both talk to various staff in the coffee shop and connecting book store.  Nothing. 

In the middle of all this, I am desperately calling my phone from my mom’s phone.  And also sending texts - “REWARD!  Call XXX-XXXX!!!”  Nothing.  I even call Phillip in a panic asking him to sign on to Google Latitude and track my location via my iPhone.  He makes it back to his laptop about 45 minutes after its disappeared to tell me that it hasn’t updated and says I am on Cottage Hill Road in Mobile.  Ughhh.  That really helps when you are in a completely different town!

So a great day turns to misery as I come to the conclusion that my iPhone has been stolen and I will never see it again PLUS I get to spend $300 to buy a new one.  Frustrated beyond belief.  Emerson is in the middle of a meltdown.  I guess she didn’t care that I lost my phone, only that she was missing her nap.  So home we went.

On the way back to Mobile, I thought and said a few things that I probably shouldn’t have.  My facebook status pretty much sums up my feelings at that point:

“…wants to give a BIG thank you to the loser who stole my iPhone in Fairhope today. You better be selling it to feed your starving children or I hope lightning strikes you down dead. FYI - Please don't text or call me until I get it replaced.”

We arrive at my parents’ house and I immediately logon to my Google account to try and see if I can track my phone’s location again.  Nothing.  It still says Cottage Hill Road.  Arghhh…Annoying.  So Phillip picks me up and we head home.  I went from denial (no way someone would steal it…check everywhere!), anger (note fb post), bargaining (hence reward texts), depression (almost crying all the while saying that I will never have a phone again), and acceptance.  My acceptance came in the form of people are generally crappy and I will never have a phone again that houses my entire life.  I finally just say that I can’t talk about it anymore and we sit down to watch a movie.  A few minutes later, we receive a phone call…FROM MY CELL PHONE!  It was an older woman that said that her aunt had found a phone and brought it to her because “she didn’t know what else to do with it.”  I totally freaked.  I explained to the woman that I was in Mobile, but had only been in Fairhope for the day.  She said that her aunt was also in Mobile so the phone was only a few miles away! 

I jumped in the car about as fast as I could and off we went.  We pulled up to a store on Cottage Hill Road (sound familiar?) and retrieved my phone.  Here’s my new fb status at this point: 

“…has my phone back! Thanks little old lady for picking it up off the table we were occupying because you thought it was "lost". Then you couldn't figure out how to use it so you put it in your big old lady bag and left it there unable to hear it ringing and ringing and ringing. It took several hours for you to locate your niece in order to call someone. The good thing: You live in Mobile and so do I so thanks for bringing my phone 95% of the way home.”

The little old lady tells me this, “I saw this phone on a table.  I didn’t know who it belonged to so I picked it up and put it in my purse.  I left Fairhope and went to lunch with my friend.  We didn’t know how to make it work.  And I couldn’t hear it ringing because my hearing isn’t that good these days and it was in my purse.”  [Sweet.  Thanks for kidnapping my phone just so your purse could have some company.]

The story continues that the woman originally thought that the phone belonged to the people upstairs.  When I say “upstairs”, I mean the offices that sit over the store on Cottage Hill Road not in Fairhope.  [So…No one in the rest of the entire world has an iPhone except for the 5 people who work in a teeny tiny office upstairs of your itty bitty shop?  Riiggghhhhttttt…  BTW, how can you watch tv these days and not see an iPhone commercial?]  She was told otherwise by the people upstairs.  [Imagine that?!?!!! And in addition, she didn’t really pick it up because it was “lost”, but because she thought she knew the owner.]  So none of the women could even figure out how to use it so “the [most likely imaginary] people upstairs” had to help them “make it work” [aka ‘slide to unlock’ the phone which is clearly stated after pressing the button] in order to call someone.  I am then asked several questions about the cute baby on the phone [so obviously you got far enough to press the button but couldn’t read ‘slide to unlock'] which leads the conversation into discussing the little old lady’s house fire that happened over 60 years ago destroying all baby pictures of her children because they didn’t have “little black tv boxes with pictures on them that fit into your purse” [Yes, but this phone belongs in my purse, not your purse, please remember that when you find another “little black tv box” (aka cell phone) that makes and RECEIVES phone calls if someone would pick it up and answer!] in 1950 [My parents weren’t even alive at this point so we are talking about something completely foreign.  What is this 1950 she speaks of?].  As I am about to walk out the door, the little old lady tells me that she even dropped it a few times and almost stepped on it at least once.  [Thanks.  FYI: Next time – Don’t tell someone that after you “rescue” their electronic lifeline from the big bad iPhone theft ring roaming Fairhope, Alabama.]

So lesson learned.  I need to find an iPhone Anonymous meeting and attend.