Last weekend I left my cell phone at Starbucks. Fifteen minutes after it went missing we called the store. The nice little barista said that she looked “all over” for it, but the phone was gone. Someone stole it! I couldn’t believe it. Who steals a cell phone? You can’t use it (I immediately turned off all outgoing/incoming calls). So WTF?
We called later that night and again the next morning. Still not turned in. The cell company mails you a new phone, so I would be without a line to the civilized world for up to a week (we have no land line). I felt like being pissed, but I also realized that I had left it there, and after being so depressed for so long I thought I’d actually get over something and not stew about it forever.
The next day we were back at the same Starbucks (yes, I know). The Hubs and I, minding our own business, working on our deuling powerbooks, when all of the sudden we hear “…ain’t no hollaback girl! I ain’t no hollaback!”. That song from Gwen-queen-of-all-things-Stefani was a RING TONE on my phone. We both jump up, shocked, staring at each other with our mouths open.
“Did you hear that?!”
Next we hear “Baby boy you stay on my mind, fufill my fantasy…”. Yep, another one of my ring tones (I am mesmerized by Beyonce’s booty, and assigned the little ditty to play when The Hubs is calling).
Our eyes widened…
The thief was IN THE STORE and playing with my phone! Right there! In the store!
The Hubs jumps up and calls my phone (the stupid cell company, who had previously turned off service, then back on for me to get voicemail, never turned service back off) and the dumb ass thief ANSWERS THE PHONE.
“Hello? Who is this? You have our phone.”
“Um…yeah…someone left it in Starbucks last night”
“I know, its our phone. We just heard it ring, where are you?”
“I’m in the store right now, where are you??”
“I’m behind the counter, I work here.”
What followed was a bunch of bumbling and excuses and the loser handed over the phone. I was so thrilled, I didn’t even think about being mad…yet.
Soon after this whole scene, we left to head home. I exclaimed, “I’m so happy! Now I can get all those adorable pictures of the kids that are on…my…phone…WHAT THE HELL?!”
The mo fo DELETED all the pics of my babies and took pictures of themselves screwing around behind the counter of Starbucks.
AND DID NOT DELETE THEM. I have the guy’s face in my phone!
Ok, stealing a phone, when you are an employee , is bad enough. But deleting baby pictures? I’m going back tomorrow to scratch out his eyes and make a necklace with them.