Calamity in the Castro and the Most Responsible Person I’ve Ever Met

So far, the new year had been going great.  

On Day 1, I went to the grocery store AND the bank.

On Day 2, I attempted exercise, read part of a book, and even scheduled a doctor’s appointment!

I am going to grow up so much this year, I thought smugly to myself.  I was making mature decisions.  I was becoming a responsible, self-reliant, and effective human being. 

On Day 3, everything fell apart.

It started when I made the impulsive decision after work to accompany my roommate to the Castro.  For those who do not know, this is a neighborhood in San Francisco that is one of the largest and most always eventful gay districts in the country.  It did not take us long upon arriving to immediately consume large amounts of Hennessy and run down the street belting Dreamgirls.

I was so caught up in my soulful ballad that several people stopped to watch and one even generously contributed a few stage props as to greater enhance my musical performance.

I kind of wish I could just wear this on a day to day basis

Then we remembered we were supposed to be dancing in clubs, not on the street, so we bid farewell to our new friends and began our traditional Castro route through the gay bars. 

We were having a wonderful time creating memories that would last approximately twenty minutes when I put my hand in my purse and realized that

my 
phone 
was 
not 
there.  

Anyone who has shared this experience knows that this is one of the most terrifying feelings that can be felt.  Please no, let it be a lie.  We called my phone.  It went straight to voicemail. Someone had taken it.  

Angrily, we texted my phone demanding that it be returned.

LIFE IS GOING TO KILL YOU AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN.

But it was ineffective.

Despite our most intimidating threats (they were the best we could come up with given our current mental state), the thief was not subdued into repentance.  The rest of the night was danced extremely half-heartedly. 

On Day 4 of the new year, I trudged to the Verizon store.  The employee informed me I did not have any upgrades and recommended I purchase a used phone from the interwebs.

The last time I searched for a thing on Craigslist, it did not go so well.  But part of adulthood is about maintaining a positive attitude, so I thought “fuck it” and started messaging the iPhone holders of Northern California. 
___________________________

Me: Hi! Is your Verizon iPhone 4 still for sale?

Oakland iPhone Holder: Yes.

Me: Great! Is it your old phone? or where did you get it

Oakland iPhone Holder: You need to call me now

“Oh… I lost my phone.  In the Castro,” I said dumbly.  I paused, then added, “But the same thing happened five months ago, when I was at a club in Vegas.”  As I said these words and gazed down at this man’s perfectly maintained iPhone and accessories, a feeling of shame suddenly swept through me.

“Ah, I see.” He said. He paused too.  “Well, I have this black case if you’d like to use it; it’s pretty low-profile.  I’m not sure if you’d prefer something… flashier.”

I was about to feel insulted, and then I remembered that my last two iPhone cases were neon purple.

“No, that will be fine,” I mumbled.

Being responsible isn’t something you can achieve by scheduling doctor’s appointments and reading books at a rapid pace.  It’s a way of living life.

I smiled at this realization as I drove out of the parking lot.  Unfortunately while doing so, I almost hit a woman on a bike with my car.  So then I bought some vegetables at Berkeley Bowl.  Buying vegetables is the exception to the Responsibility Law.  It’s like the trump card of responsible things.

Yay!