What Could Have Been, Kevin (if you weren't a douchebag) - w4m
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Me: Classically beautiful near-runway model with the grace of a dancer and the laugh of a fairy, who inadvertently left her iPhone in the backseat of an Uber while in a sushi-hurry.
You: Untraditionally handsome, bespectacled, sharp-nosed man's man who found my iPhone in the back of your Uber 2 minutes later on your way home. Your name is Kevin.
Me: A desperately hopeful optimist, confused at why you would answer my misplaced iPhone and give me your address as we made arrangements for me to pick it up in 5 minutes only for you to not answer your door and abruptly stop answering my calls and texts. It was only 9pm, after all. (Checked Find My iPhone--you were an honest soul who was where you said you were. Maybe you just abruptly fell asleep?)
You: (Are you high right now, Kevin? Because that could explain a lot. No judging here. I hope you enjoyed your night and that you didn't leave any valuable personal belongings in my/your Uber.)
Me: Up half the night worrying that I was missing calls regarding both of my grandmothers in the hospital and my children spending the weekend with their dad 700 miles away. Also, I have another 2 years left to pay off that iPhone so please please please answer your phone in the morning.
You: Smoother than Don Draper, you invite me to your flat for the iPhone exchange. You seem concerned about my grandmas and recognize what a unique position you're in to come to my aid. Like a venture capitalist in the final hour, you swoop in and restore my confidence that I can still FaceTime with my parents and my children and in the nick of time. You're my hero today, Kevin! KE-VIN! KE-VIN! KE-VIN!
Me: So grateful from the bottom of my heart that you noticed my iPhone in the backseat of my/your Uber and rescue it from the clutches of the frankly quite non-intimidating and lovely driver whose phone number and license plate I already knew, but that's cool because you live barely two miles away and it only cost me $25 per Uber trip (surge pricing) I made to get to your flat (remember last night? No, no Kevin you do not because if you hadn't passed out you would have answered your door when I knocked, 5 minutes after we spoke on the phone. That was one $25 Uber trip. This is the second $25 Uber trip.).
You: Your dark hair disheveled, your wrinkled undershirt, and nearly threadbare pink boxer shorts are both endearing and a confirmation that you were sooooooo high last night. Good on ya, Kevin. Virtual fist bumps and stuff. But mostly I can't wait to see if my kids texted me with last night's bedtime "good night" or a "hello" this morning. It's totally cool that you didn't plug my phone in so that I would have a full battery all day (that's asking a lot, even from me) for the charity 5K walk and goat festival (#goatchella) I told you I'd be at all day. I am just incredibly relieved to have my iPhone back in my hands that I could almost kiss you, Kevin! Mwah!
Me: After trying to mobile-power charge my iPhone for the two hours after you so blessedly handed it back to me, I'm realizing there may be a problem. Actually, two problems. 1) Grandma had a stroke (I found out the next day, because. . .) 2) My iPhone doesn't seem to be working. At all, whatsoever. Actually, three problems. 3) The inside of my iPhone case is full of water. This is unexpected, given that SF has had no measurable rain in 1xx days and my tears were only flowing into my cleavage, not onto my iPhone which was not on my person anyway.
You: "I have no idea what's wrong with your phone. It was in my pocket the whole night. My iPhone is just fine. Are you sure it wasn't full of water when you left it in the Uber?"
Oh, Kevin. Kevin in Hayes Valley who gave me your real phone number and address which I still have, I think we can guess what happened here.
Why didn't you answer your door that first time, back on Friday night? We could have been soulmates for all you know--I've helped others get their iPhones back too. I feel like I get you. You're a good person. A good man. (You could use some new boxer shorts which don't scream "I'm ready to meet my Tinder match" though.)
Did all the alerts from BART's Twitter account ("10 min delay at DALY due to equip prob") disrupt your evening? Or did my 7 year old's "good night mom!" texts harsh your mellow?
What exactly was the trigger which caused you or someone within arm's reach of a stranger's purple-encased iPhone to dunk it in a bucket of water? Believe it or not I like to think you dropped it into a toilet bowl full of your piss, because if you're going to purposely fuck someone over at least make sure their clueless hands smell like ammonia.
My working theory is that you used my iPhone to take dick pics until you realized my phone is locked and you couldn't delete them. Sadly, I am probably the most compassionate and understanding person ever and if you would have explained a little, I could have entered my passcode then and there and stood there while you deleted your dozens of bad decisions. Believe me man, I've made bad decision too. I'd pay it forward if given the chance.
Do you even realize that I had a "period tracker" app on there and now have no idea when to expect my period? Maybe I'm just PMS'ing. Does it sound like I'm PMS'ing? All the women I know think that it's very helpful for a man to suggest that she may be PMS'ing. With baited breath I wait for your assessment. (Now? What about now? Maybe now? Probably now. Fingers crossed!)
On a more serious note, I still had some photos of my kid's Make A Wish experience on that phone. That I hadn't them backed up yet is my fault. That they are forever lost? I blame that on both of us. So really Kevin, thank you for teaching me a valuable lesson in data storage and douchebaggery. Suddenly your shabby-chic boxer shorts and concerned nodding as you handed me my lost iPhone aren't as endearing.
I can't know for sure exactly what you did to my iPhone, but I know that it was perfectly dry and in great condition when I hustled all my bags and myself out of my/your Uber, and then it was immediately in your possession.
My phone and everything on it is ruined and gone. To replace it cost me $400 that I don't have. I'll spend the duration of my wireless contract paying off that part of my credit card bill.
The good news is that now a week later, my grandma who had a stroke is being discharged to a rehab facility and my other grandma is stable after her double mastectomy. No, I'm not making this up. This is the kind of real life stuff that happens after we move beyond the whole "turn 23 and spend the next ten years getting drunk and high and moving from tech job to tech job before we finally do call Mom and she reality checks us with what we've been missing while we've been out making the world a worse place."
The bad news is that you're a mother fucking douchebag, Kevin. I figure you already know that, but fuck you anyway. You're a punchline in my life and your integrity and character are as rounded as a bag of dog shit. Good luck in all your douchebag endeavors--there's nowhere to go now but up.