Let me tell you a funny story about
keeping track of your possessions and how sometimes being very lax
works to your advantage.
This past weekend, Naomi was whisked
off to Boston for her work. Her company was putting on a conference
about sustainability on Sunday, and every staff member was required
to be there. She drove down on Wednesday to prepare. Since I was not
doing anything important, and my work does not start until March 18
(next Monday) I decided to catch the Greyhound Bus and spend Saturday
and Sunday with her.
It was kind of a stressful trip. The
bus had been held up at the Canadian border on its way from Montreal,
and it arrived an hour late. I had never ridden a Greyhound Bus
before, and my unfamiliarity with the procedures and customs on the
bus meant that I was a little on edge. And because it was late, we
arrived in Boston at approximately half-past midnight. I just barely
missed the last subway train, and thus had to do another first: hail
a cab.
I must have looked pretty pathetic,
standing there half-heartedly sticking my pointer finger in the air.
Lucky for me, a cabbie pulled over and I got in. I'm pretty flustered
at this point and all I know is that I'm going to the neighborhood of
Jamaica Plain. I tell the cabbie that's where I'm headed and I
hastily pull out my Nook for the address. I'm finally able to locate
the address and we set off.
For those of you who have never taken a
cab before, let me assure you that there is at least one cabbie in
this world who fits all the stereotypes you see in books and movies.
This guy is loud, boistrous, and peppers his speech with
“yaknowwhatI'msayin?” At this point, all I want to do is sit
quietly and clear my thoughts, but the cabbie keeps talking. I feel
like I need to listen, so I do.
After what seems like an eternity, we
arrive at our destination. I pay and exit the vehicle. Whew. End of
story. I Wish! Not twenty seconds after the sounds of the cab
disappear into the city atmosphere, I realize that I left my Nook in
the cab.
I'm pretty mad at myself. I never put a
password on my Nook, so theoretically anybody could pick it up on the
back seat of the cab and make purchases til my bank account runs dry.
Not only that, but I remember that I have other sensitive information
available – passwords, usernames, etc. - Basically I am at a high
risk for identity theft at this point. As you might imagine it is
very hard to go to sleep.
Do you remember what I said at the
beginning about being lax working to your advantage. Well my friends,
my laziness was rewarded in full when I got a call from a young woman
at 2:00 in the morning (I was still wide awake, I might add). She and
her friends had been out on the town, and found my Nook when they
decided to take a cab home for the night. As I spoke to each of the
girls individually, I gradually pieced together the puzzle. In order
to find my phone number, they had gone on to my email account and
emailed a very random assortment of my friends and contacts. They
were able to find my number from Grace Swartzendruber, our wedding
planner. I was (and still am) very impressed by their altruism and
their ingenuity while intoxicated. There are, it seems, still good
people in this world.
After that, it was easy to find the
address the next day, for it was amazingly close to a museum Naomi
and I were already planning to visit.
So, if you were confused as to
why you got an email from me at 1:45 on a Saturday night, I hope this
explains the situation. And the moral of the story is don't password
protect your stuff because I never would have gotten my Nook back had
I done so... Never mind. Just write your phone number on your Nook
case. Yeah – let's go with that.
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