Now anyone who knows me knows I am no fan of Boston. Okay, maybe as a tourist but our three years there we complained. A lot. And we love Geneva. Okay, maybe not as much as our beloved California (that's a story for another post). But something happened yesterday that positively made me yearn for Boston. Weird, huh?
First the backstory: In Boston a certain someone in our family lost his phone. Twice. Once in the not so great neighborhood of Hyde Park and once near the Brookline Theater, more upscale area but still in Boston, a large city, with a sporadically rough reputation and a not unimpressive crime rate. Each time the person who found the phone scrolled through, found the number marked Home, called us and told us they had our phone. Then they stayed with the phone until we went over and picked it up.
Then there is Geneva. When we first moved here, my niece had her phone swiped. A nice new Razr. It disappeared from some kebab restaurant. That's all we know. No one called. No one let us know.
Yesterday I had lunch with a friend at the Brasserie Lipp. Nice place, right? I went to the restroom. My phone rang and I just took it out of my bag to stop it ringing and yes, I admit it, I put it on the little sanitary receptacle box in the stall. Came out, washed my hands (yes, I actually did :-), walked out the door. There were other women waiting to use the two stalls. All upscale Geneva types with VL bags, Hermes scarves and hoity toity expressions.
I walked out the door and within five feet of it, fumbled for my phone, remembered where I had last seen in, ran back to the bathroom stall. No. Ah, okay, someone must have turned it in. Talked to the staff. Left my home phone number and name in case someone turned it in. No one had turned it in. I came home and called back an hour or two later. Ample time for someone to have turned it in. Nope.
So this is what I learned. Apparently, for certain people in our fair city, it doesn't matter if you're drenched in expensive designer clothes, at heart some people are just thieves. And this is for that one thief in particular. Shame on you!
Really, if I walked in found a phone what would I do? Turn it in. There is no question. Which person walks in and goes, cool, Lipp is now rewarding its customers by giving us all Samsung flip phones in the restrooms? Shame. On. You.
Now beneath my cynical exterior does dwell an optimist of sorts. I can't believe someone would steal. Period! So I am going to call the restaurant again and see if someone turned it in but I fear that is just my naivete talking.
One more thing, thief (who I know will never read this blog), the phone you switched off as soon as you swiped it (and perhaps even saw me frantically return to the restaurant and search for my phone. what were you eating, btw?)...well, once you switch it off and then switch it back on, you need a PIN. That's right. You get three chances to get it right before the phone locks up. Have fun!
So anyone who needs to contact me or has been trying to call. Please call me at home or email. I don't have a cell phone for the moment.