when all (keys, wallet, etc) is lost

you lose some, you lose some

I’m late again, which sucks because I’m home without the kids and my only job is to take Robert the dog to his vet appointment at 2pm.

It’s 1:51pm and the vet is about 10 minutes away on a good day.

Leaving the house means having a few key items. I’ve already got my phone AND my backpack which, in its titular way, is on my back. That leaves the airpods, keys and wallet, three items I lose all the time, including now – where are they?

Big ups to past me who, a few weeks back, spent $100 on Apple Airtags, lil wafer sized tech pucks that you can stick to anything and locate in the inevitable event they go missing. Maybe one day soon Apple will let us put airtags on concepts. I’d slap one on my self-esteem and ensure I never lose that shit again though that’d mean first finding it in the first place and honestly I have no idea where I left it (see?)

I open up my Find My app and go for the Airpods first. These suckers don’t even need an Airtag; they’ve got one built right in. I hear the half chirp half beep sound that only a sicko company like Apple could create - elegant and artsy while also being annoying. A+ 10/10 no notes except wait one note actually: I can never locate the source of the actual beeping. 

I search the usual haunts - under the couch? Some smushed jelly beans, XL legos and hot wheels cars  down there, but no ‘pods. 

Robert, a tiny grayblack ball of bark and whimper, follows me around. He senses the vibe is off.

The beep is far away now, over the river and through the woods two feet away in the bedroom, so I search on the dresser - nothing. I give the sheets a shakedown - no beep no nothing. 

Back into the hall, I hear the beep in the bathroom – yes of course the bathroom! – I left everything there last night and yes yahtzee there they are, my airpods and keys which, had I not found them, are themselves airtag'd because I lose them all the time. 

Last up, my wallet. I've been burned before, not bringing it with me to places I will need to pay where, much to my visible dismay, they don't accept Apple Pay.

Like a few months ago when I had a free afternoon (rare) and went to the Laemmle Glendale to see a film. One ticket to Oldboy please, I said, prepping myself for a 20th anniversary remastered bloodbath of the classic film that I’d never seen before but knew was a classic cuz everyone said so. 

“Great, 16 bucks” they said. “Ah cool,” I said and put my phone up to their machine ready to 'tap' my way to payment when, “Sorry we don't do Apple Pay.”

“What?” I said, “Who doesn't do Apple Pay?”

But I don't give up easily so I say, “um...isn't there a way to make this work?” like a little mafioso but without any of the intimidation so it just comes out really earnest because it is.

Then she goes “…”

And so we just sorta stood there in a hazy stalemate until - lightbulb - “you could buy a ticket online” she says. 

“Oh perfect,” I say but things aren’t perfect are they because enjoying a movie isn’t just about the movie, no sir no Bob.

It’s about the concessions.

The popcorn and coke zero straight outta the fountain machine that I cannot, as far as I know, buy online. Without the P&CZ you’ve got nothing no less than nothing bc you have the hollow emptiness of knowing how good this movie could be with P&CZ in your tummy. Maybe that’s why they call them concessions, because it would be a major concession to see a movie without them.

I approach the bearded glasses guy manning the concessions. “Hi brother,” I say but without the brother part bc that's implied and I’m already on thin ice,”‘assuming you guys don't do apple pay over here?”

“No,” he says and honestly thank god bc can you imagine if this guy had Apple Pay set up and the ticket counter didn't?

Expecting his reply, I hit him with the genius idea I’d just come up with - “do you have Venmo I have Venmo? I could venmo you and you could pay for my popcorn and drink?”

Let it be said for the record - that was a good idea. A quick solve from which we’d all come out victorious - me, Laemmle theaters, and of course the bearded glasses guy who might have saved Laemmle from shuttering.

But he says no, though in a way that feels like he understands. I tell the man I'll be back shortly.

The nearest BofA ATM is not that near and so I’m speedwalking the several blocks between me and destiny, a plan forming clear as formaldehyde in my mind. I’ll add BofA card to my “wallet” from my BofA app and then, once it’s in the wallet, I’ll use it to get me access to the ATM wherein I can ask for $40, more than what I need in case I go too hard on either the P or the CZ and need a (full price) refill.

The plan is so good I start running like a guy trying to stop his lover from getting on that plane at the end of a romcom.

Finally, BofA appears. I open my phone and open the BofA app and there at the bottom in blue little font I see ‘add card to Apple wallet.”

I am IN like a deadly sin this is great I hit that thing and it asks me for my full bank card number??? I don’t have my full bank card I don’t even have my wallet don’t you understand??. 

Surely there’s been a mistake; how can I be so close and yet not actually any closer but in fact, were one to judge the whole thing by physical proximity, much further or farther from my goal depending on the season.

Suffice it to say, I did not see the movie. 

Back to now though it’s 1:54 pm and like a 1990s caveman, I’m not going anywhere without my wallet. Not in this god forsaken world where we can travel through outer space but can’t pay for popcorn and CZ with the wallets inside our phones NOR reason with the proprietors of a small shop in the halcyon days of a simpler time when the word neighbor meant something.

But my wallet has an airtag in it, so let’s find that beep beep beep. I activate it on my phone and start looking and it feels like it’s coming from the same place as before - the bathroom? There’s no wallet on the counter or the couch or – the laundry?? 

I rummage through the dirty hamper that’s inexplicably full of very wet clothes and… nope. Nothing. Just the beep chirp beep of the wallet birds which is now definitely coming from our bedroom where I was a second ago so I run (run!) in there but the chirping gets quieter like its coming from inside a wall in another person’s house. It’s probably in the living room where I already looked and where I’m now looking again in the couch but it isn't there and now it’s 1:59 pm and I haven’t left the house yet and I cannot find my god damn wallet but I can hear the beeping is it coming from inside the house from inside my brain - wait. 

I gently place my backpack onto the comfy chair like I’m defusing a bomb and unzip the front pocket. Beep chirp beep.

There it is. My wallet, right there on my person this whole time. A metaphor, this whole search, but for what?

I scream “come on Robert” and get him into the car. It’s 2:01 pm and as I’m pulling out Lauren is pulling in and she opens her window and says ‘can you call the vet and let them know you’re gonna be late’ which I hear as “you are a fucking idiot” and to which I respond very defensively ‘yes I was already gonna’ even though I wasn’t gonna not really.

Robert jumps on me and rests his hot dog body in my lap. He looks up at me and loudly mouth breathes like he’s about to give someone CPR.

I turn onto the big street next to our house and get ready to call the vet but I can’t find my phone. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE.

I know it’s in the car though because my airpods are still playing that podcast about the goo goo dolls and there’s no way it could be working this far from home, could it?

I look in all the crevices and in the backpack (fool me 1x) but nowhere is nowhere. I hit the button on my airpods to call up my assistant siri and ask “find my phone” and she says “your phone is nearby” to which I say “yea no shit” and gets that beep going again and I hear the beep but I cannot find its source. I get out of the car and open the passenger side and rummage around down there and Robert runs out of the car. I get him back in but still, no phone. No phone but there is a phone. What’s the metaphor now? Sometimes even when you know something is there with you, that something is true, you still won’t be able to find it? 

Five minutes later, I find it way under the front passenger seat in a place I looked several times. Complete bullshit as far as things existing in space and time goes but w/e. 

I drive on the highway and call the vet to say I’m gonna be a few minutes late and she says “ok we have a grace period of 10 min after that you have to reschedule.” 

It’s 2:06 pm now. “Oh I, but I’m- I’m late. I - I am on my way.”

“Ok” she says not really giving a fuck. 

I get close and call them and say I’m here even though I’m not yet but in 30 seconds I am and they take Robert. He has an ear infection and, once again, refuses to have his nails trimmed.

Back at the counter with four cookie jars of dog and cat treats, I am told the visit comes to $403, or roughly 25 tickets to see Oldboy. 

I pay with my phone though I wish they wouldn’t take it so I could pretend not to have my wallet and scream, “Come on Robert let’s get outta here!” but I don’t.

Almost everything I lose is not actually important.

The other stuff, like P&CZ, Robert’s unconditional love, Lauren reminding me to call the vet and not getting upset when I respond like a defensive troll -  is the stuff that requires no airtag - it’s always sorta there, even if I can’t see it.

Even if I take it for granted and then can’t find it because I go out into the world searching for it while it’s in my backpack or because I look for it within my own car and can’t find it.

But losing these things is necessary, even if we already have them, because losing them means finding them and finding them means remembering how it feels when they are gone.

Robert slingshots out of the backroom and careens toward me with a force the strength of 1000 airtags.

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