Entertainment, Story Time

Story Time: Dude, Where’s My Phone?

So, we had alumni weekend at my alma mater (St. Joseph’s University) recently. It was interesting reconnecting with some people I’ve missed and others I’ve been purposely avoiding. lol Every time I go there, I’m reminded me of both the good and bad experiences during my undergrad career. Welp, I thought I’d share one.

This story took place in either my junior or early senior year. So, on Thursdays, it’s typical of most SJU upperclassmen (and underclassmen with good fakes) to hit up Mad River, a bar in Manayunk. Thursdays at SJU = “MRT”(Mad River Thursdays), a place where you could randomly run into the girl that set next to you in that class freshman year or the guy who pulled your weight in that group project that one time. Music wasn’t the best, but the dance floor was pretty massive and they have an outdoor deck. Idk who came up with that day specifically or why Mad River was the prime destination, but it was a blast if you met up with friends. I decided that I was gonna go out as much as I could since I turned 21 in March of 2015, pretty late into the school year. I never owned a fake and I graduated May 2016, to put things into perspective.

Whatever the case, that night I decided to go out. Like, I wasn’t tryna get too lit, so I decided to drive. Usually, I catch a Lyft with a group there and back and partake in the open bar. Anyway, me and my friend decided to go together. It was a pretty chill night, from what I remember. Saw friends, had fun, etc.

About 40 minutes before closing, my friend comes up to me and says that he lost his phone. We retrace his steps and he still can’t find it. At this point, I declare it a lost cause and decide to get my dance and drink on before it ends, and we part ways. They play the last song, and the lights come on. Definitely time to go. We both go outside and decide to grab some pizza from the infamous Mike’s Pizza across the street. I grab my pizza, and we regroup. My friend’s rightfully still worried about his phone and we head back into the bar so he can asks the bartenders one last time if anyone turned any phones in. Of course, the answer is no. A wallet or purse? You might get lucky. Phones? You can pretty much say bye bye.

Outside, I tell him that, he can use the Find My iPhone app from my phone, but he doesn’t remember his damn apple ID. He calls his mom from my phone at like 2:20 AM (My mom would have been pissed), and tells her he lost his phone. Finally, we head back towards campus, but I tell him to try to remember his damn Apple ID login info, cause that’s about the only way he might be able to get his phone back. I drop him off and head back to my apartment a few blocks away.

About 15 minutes later, I get an iMessage from my friend. As expected, he was able to login to his Find My iPhone app on his Macbook. He showed me the location and it was pretty close to our apartments/campus. I asked him if he wanted to to try and go get it back, and he says yeah. So, I get my ass up and throw on some running shoes, a hood, and some Adidas track pants. I wasn’t sure if I’d have to unknowingly kick some ass or run up in someone’s house, so I had to be dressed appropriately.

I pick him up, he logs in to the app from my phone and the location pings to the intersection of 56th and Wynnefield Avenue(right up the street from Gompers Elementary). The fact that we went out in Manayunk and the phone is pinging near campus meant that some scumbag that went to our school(and was also out) swiped it from my friend. The tracker isn’t the most accurate but we were able to narrow it down to two row homes on the block, because there’s only about like eight in total. So, what was the plan? Knock on the door and get his shit back.

So, I literally told my friend, I’m gonna stand back and let him ring the door bell/knock on the door, because I’m black. Yeah, I’ve seen the stories of people of color getting shot/the cops called on them for even just knocking on someone’s door, so I gladly stayed in the background. It was also like 2:45 in the morning, and even I would be confused as to why some 6’4, 250lb stranger is waking me up at this time of night. He rings the bell a few times and knock. No one comes to the door, but the upstairs window opens and we’re greeted with the voice of an elderly woman. We apologize for waking her and explain that my friends lost phone is showing up at her address. She says that it’s just her, her husband, and son in the house and that neither of them went out the house that night/would have the phone. We believe her and are super apologetic for bothering them at this time of night.

Welp, on to the house next door. It had to be in there, unless Find My iPhone was lying. Same rules applied. My friend knocked. The tv was on in the living room from what we could see from the blinds/curtains. He kept knocking/ringing the doorbell. We peeked in the house and swore we saw someone change the channel or get up. Whatever the case, no one answered the door. We felt kinda defeated. We came down to the pavement and tried to think of ways on how he could get his phone back. His next step was to contact authorities. I felt they probably couldn’t do much with little proof, but still, we figured we anything was better than nothing.

I knew that police drive around the campus/outer perimeter doing watches to basically ensure dumbass drunk students who wander alone don’t get robbed at night. I suggested we should try to get the attention of one of those officers. Bruh, maybe within like 5-10 an officer happened to be driving by. Again, the same rules as knocking on the doors applied. I told my friend to wave down the officer, because I did not want “large black man shot/arrested for approaching Caucasian cop at 3AM” to be the headline tomorrow morning. Unfortunate, but true.

We get the officer’s attention. He was about a 30 year-old white man. We explained the situation to him. He basically told us that he could only file a report, without a search warrant and lack of proof/evidence. It was as expected. Still, we kept talking to him. We let him know that we knocked on one of the two possible doors, and we were certain there’s someone in the second house. We ended up convincing him to knock on the second house again. He just told us to stay on the pavement, while he went up to the house.

He used his stern “Police, open up!” a few times and knocked/rung the doorbell. Still, no one answered. Maybe they fell asleep with the tv on. He heads back to the pavement and says he feels like there’s someone in there, too. As we’re talking, we see the figure of someone move. He shines his bright ass flashlight inside the house and bangs on the door again a few times. Finally, someone comes to the door.

We could tell it was some SJU male student but couldn’t really make out their face from the pavement. The officer is asking him what he was doing, if he went out, who else was in the house, and about the phone. The whole time he’s talking with the guy at the door, I’m pressing the sound button on the Find My iPhone app from my phone, hoping we’d hear the sound. The officer finishes up the convo, heads back to us, and the student closes the door. It doesn’t seem too promising.

When he gets back to us, I ask him if he heard any phone ringing/ringtone in the background. He said no. Still, I’m pressing the sound button on the app. As we’re talking, the student opens the door again, and I can hear the phone ringing. The student hands the officer the phone, asks if that’s the phone he was looking for, and says that he heard the phone ringing in his roommate’s room who was upstairs passed out drunk. My friend is elated. He quickly unlocks the phone and calls his mom to tell her that he got his phone back. By then, it’s about 3:15. We thank the officer.

You’d think that’d be it right? Well, a few minutes later, the student that was at the door comes outside and basically says that the phone is his roommates and we’re basically lying. Me and my friend look at each confused like “How the f*ck would we come up with that lie?”. Like, sir, really? We tell the officer that my friend just called his mom and unlock the phone and everything to prove that it’s his. The officer believes us. By that time, the student came out of the dark all the way to the pavement, and we can see his face clearly. It ends up being someone from the same fraternity we’re in. Once he recognized us, he was like “Oh, hey Kobi and so and so. Sorry, my roommate must’ve grabbed your phone by mistake at Mad River.” In my head, I’m thinking “FOH. Weak ass lie. Thieving ass hoe.”, but yeah, I kept it cute. Everyone departs. I drop my friend off. By the time I get back to my apartment and finally fall asleep, it’s probably like 4 AM. The worst part? I have an 8 AM class in 4 hours. I can’t skip it either. F*ccccccccck.

Looking back now, it’s pretty funny/ironic. The friend that lost his phone? We’re not even friends anymore. He started acting like a fuckboi and wasn’t putting the same energy into our friendship as I was. Moral of the story: I’m a great ass friend to have, and people will do you dirty. Period

Author: Kobi Elliot

Kobi. 25. College grad. Philly native. Ghanian-American. Creative

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