Third Time's The Charm

The first time I lost my cell phone was in the back of a club on the Bowery in the girls bathroom. I didn't even realize it was missing until noon the next day, when I finally lifted my throbbing, achey head off the pillow to call a friend for brunch... Lucky for me a sweetheart of a girl not more than 22 years old found it upon her nose-powdering excursion the night before and held on to it, knowing that if it were her she'd be lost without the precious piece of tech work. Can u believe such people exist in Manhattan? They do.

Getting it back wasn't too much of hassle either. A trip down to Union Square on my lunch break to meet her at the nearest Starbucks where I actually enjoyed a hot beverage with this stunning stranger and learned all about her new life as a student at a city college nearby. Awesome... got my phone back and made a new girlfriend. And you Manhattanite gals know, making a gal pal in this city ain't always quite so easy.

The second time i lost my chrome mini Nokia was in the back of a taxi cab... But it gets even better. I was on my way to the airport. I had stopped off briefly at a midtown building to deliver a portfolio for D-Roomie, making it impossible to be held accountable for all my belongings; her artwork plus all my luggage and a wandering cell phone making its way straight to the floor next to my feet. You'd think I would have learned my lesson from this and started wearing my prized communicator on a leash. But once again, I lucked out by acquiring the kindest taxi driver ever found within the five Burroughs and when I returned from visiting A.Star in Laguna Beach, he promptly drove right up to my apartment building and I came down with a bewildered grin and a $20 bill...

Now seriously, can you believe that fairytale? Not only did I get my phone back but I got it shouffered over the day of my return, door to door, step to step. Now that's what i call Manhattan service.

So you see, after such heart warming experiences associated with the loss of my cell phone, you can understand my dismay last evening when I noticed the item no where to be found on my work desk, purse of jacket. CRAP! Done it again, I thought... But it can't really be gone... Right?

Wrong. This time the neighborhood garbage collector picked it up. You know, the one who walks around aimlessly all day finding interesting objects to add to his hoarded treasures... Well at least that is what I concluded from obvious sources. I actually just left it sitting on a bench on the sidewalk downstairs from my office. Right out in the open for him to feast on... Gone. Finito. Dunzo.

After calling it several times and getting no answer the possibility hit me that it might actually be lost forever. Whoever did find my old school Nokia decided they weren't parting with it so quickly, although Lord knows why. It's not like it was such a high tech gadget that people would be swooning over. I breathed a deep sigh of sorrow, morning the loss of one of my most valued possessions.

The next day I sent out an email to all friends and family, divulging the situation and asking for everyone's digits to put into my new and improved Verizon Motorola. I was returned with letters of joy and shouts of approval. "Thank goodness that damn Nokia had a death wish", they said. "You could never get a signal OR send proper texts." I guess in a way it was a blessing in disguise. True what they say: The third time really is the charm.

"Can you hear me now? Really? Yeah? FINALLY."