Okay. So I’m partially to blame here. Drunk-o had some midnight eggs and sausage at I-Hop last night and left her iPhone there. Is it funny that I lost my iPhone at I-Hop? I think that’s funny.
Anyway. I didn’t realize that I left it there until the next day. I called and asked if anyone had turned it in.
And here’s the thing. I never put a lock on my phone because my laziness wins over my need for privacy. So I was imaging the person who picked up my phone sending dick pics on from my Snap Chat to all of my friends or putting all of my “private” photos on my Facebook or Instagram. You know. The usual.
Anyway. Finally Natasha showed me how to use Find My Phone to see if I could locate it.
At this point it was “offline.”
So she showed me how to wipe it clean and have it put on a stolen list so that no one else could activate it.
So to the person who stole my phone:
- I didn’t want all of those pictures I took at Thanksgiving, anyway. Especially the ones of my 8-month old niecy. I’m more mad that I can’t Instagram my food anymore.
- I can’t take selfies while waiting at red lights anymore, either. So I guess you’re doing the world a favor there.
- I paid $600 for that phone because I don’t ever buy insurance on my phones and my last one broke before I was due for an upgrade. It’s the holidays and I can’t afford a new phone right now so that kind of blows.
- But at least it’s oddly freeing to not have a phone.
- Nonetheless, you’re still a dick.
- But I’m probably not going to stop drunkenly going to I-Hop for eggs and sausage.