In Perswaysion

Yep — I was pickpocketed at a Raleigh bar. No, I didn’t feel a thing. Yes, this is sounds like an old-timey crime but is most definitely a thing that happens in 2019. This is a PSA.

The bar that shall not be named.

I’m not going to lie; Sometimes I lose things. Like I really lose things. I may or may not have ordered two replacement debit cards in the span of two months. A few weeks ago, I had to log into Find My iPhone on a Target employee’s device because I had left my own phone inside of a random shopping cart.

So, I’m trying really hard to be conscious of where I put things. I distinctly remember seeing a Snapchat notification, thinking “I’m going to check this when I’m not packed inside of this bar like a sardine,” and slipping the phone back into my purse. Tragically, I also remember not zipping my purse back up.

Ok, so maybe we’re just naive from living in sweet lil ol’ Southern Pines.

When I reached for it a few minutes later, it was gone.

Enter crisis mode. I logged into Find My iPhone on my friend’s device and saw that the dot was exactly where I was standing just a few minutes earlier, and hadn’t been updated in 15 minutes. I called it, and it went straight to voicemail.

My heart sank as a bouncer gave me a pity look and said “Ma’am, I’m afraid your phone has been stolen.” He didn’t seem surprised.

This is 2019 — who wants to steal a phone, especially an iPhone 7? After some Googling, I learned that people who steal phones will sell them overseas for a lot of money. Someone wanted my phone that survived 2 swims in the toilet and they took it right out of my purse.

The only contents in my small bag were my small wallet and phone, making it pretty easy for someone to slip their hand inside when I wasn’t looking. Did I mention it was really crowded in that bar?

I’ve already gotten a new model, an upgrade in fact — but, I can’t help but mourn the loss of my old phone and all of the photos that the thief wiped from my iCloud drive. I guess they were able to crack the “1234” passcode. Shocker.

A lot was learned from this experience, but I do want to give a huge shout-out to my supportive mother, who loves me even though I texted her with my computer at 4 a.m.; and to my pals for 1) writing out very clear directions so I could get home because I suck and rely too much on Waze and 2) buying me a #9 from McDonald’s to help me feel better.

Moral(s) of the story: Use an actual phone password and most importantly, ZIP. YOUR. PURSE.

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