open letter to the guy who stole my phone.
Oh hi you,
I am sure you’re pretty proud of yourself right now for helping America’s current economic crisis by redistributing the wealth. There are just too many starving college students running around out there with iPhones. I’m glad that mine will now be used to help sell crack or pinpoint locations to drop dead bodies. I’m warning you though, Siri can be a total bitch.
I am a little sad that I will never again see all the iPhone pics of my friends that I had planned to put in those awful little wedding slideshows..the ones where hundreds of people watch the bride and groom grow up via old pictures. I was going to contribute the “college years” photos (the ones that couldn’t go on Facebook). Luckily most of my friends either have commitment issues or just really enjoy being single, so there are no impending weddings–giving me plenty of time to replenish the blackmail.
You pickpocketed me at 1:00 am the night of St. Patrick’s Day as I was leaving a bar in San Francisco. Stealing from a ginger on St. Patricks day is pretty low. That’s our one day to shine.
That’s all I have to say about that.
For a second after my phone was gone I was worried about you going through my texts and emails. After the incident where I described your physical appearance to a SFPD cop and was accused of racially profiling, I realized that all you would discover by going through my text messages is that I don’t drink whisky and lions are my favorite animal.
Have fun at your next Occupy SF meeting. You should go to bed a little earlier next Saturday.
Enjoy browsing through my life,