Lost & Found

I lost my wireless earbuds, having last handled them on Christmas Eve. 

I had long lusted after wireless earbuds (sports/over-the-ear) that I could jog or hike with but the price was way too high given how reasonably satisfied I’d been for years with the ‘wired’ ones. . . which I consider a miracle. Oh, yes, I’ve been on this long journey from the Walkman (1979) onwards―and it’s been amazing. So, I’ve learned to manage the wire pretty well even while running trails or whatever. But I hadn’t priced the wireless ones in years and when I found out recently that I could get some nice ones for only $39, I was shocked. The over-the-ear sports kind―that price had come way down! I went for it, and they work great. I’ll never go back to being a miserable little penny-pinching freak with loser ‘wired’ earbuds.

But, I lost them already, after just about a month. 

I knew I had them Christmas Eve because I used them while working out at Planet Fitness that morning and believed they most likely got lost when I was juggling a bunch of stuff from my car to house when I got back mid-morning.  Bringing stuff back and forth is always a shitshow with me for some reason.  And I knew I’d temporarily set some stuff down on the street during the shuffle.   I checked the car, the street, traced my paths, etc. and turned my place inside out over the course of Christmas and the day after.  Nothing.  So, I finally called Planet Fitness:

ME:        “Yeah, hello, I wonder if you have a Lost & Found? . . . and whether you could check to see if a case of wireless earbuds turned up?  (asked for description) . . . they’re in a small black case, the shape of an egg and actually the size of a very large egg.  If anything, they were left the morning of the 24^th . . . Christmas Eve morning.  The brand name I think is JLab or something. . .”

HER:      “Hmmm. . . (rustle of paper) . . .there’s nothing in the log about it, so, . . No.”

ME:        “Oh, ok, but I was just wondering if you could check anyways?. . . a small black. . .”

HER:      “Yeah, No, there’s nothing in the log about it.”

I could feel my blood pressure checking in for the ride.  Nothing to get worried about yet Sir, just want to be standing by in case we have to go hot.

ME:         “Yes, ok, but do you have access to look to actually see if they’re there?  I just want to know if they might be in the place where you keep the stuff . . . I know about the log, the only question I have is if you have access to look?”

Some of my thoughts began to yell at me and I had to put them in a time-out.

HER:      “Look, I’ve answered your question, there’s nothing written, there’s nothing in the log about it.”

My blood pressure began to yell “fix bayonets!” all up and down the line. I wondered:

 a.)  if there were nuclear access code procedures involved which prevented her from opening the Lost & Found vault―which might contain, at best, a dented pair of reading glasses, a stale pack of gum, a terrycloth sweat-rag, and possibly an earbud case or,

 b.) did she simply not want to walk over and look in that fucking drawer or box or whatever? 

ME:  “Look, I understand there is nothing written about it, but, there’s a place where you keep the Lost & Found stuff, right?  Can you just look and see, that’s all I’m saying!” . . .

And alas, at that moment, the little brass gears that engage my mental capacity to tolerate this kind of stuff began to slip, being so worn from heavy use over the years.  And that slippage caused me to finish with:

ME:  “And please don’t tell me about the log again!” 

HER:  (curtly) “Sir, I’ve answered your question, it is not in the log, and your attitude is disrespectful.  I’m hanging up now.”

And she hung up.

Oh.  Well. 

I had the Planet Fitness business card which had the email address of the manager and so later that night I emailed the manager, explaining what had happened. My email had no vitriol, however.  My energy had dissipated, I wasn’t convinced the case was going to turn up there anyway, and I simply asked the manager if they did indeed have a Lost & Found and could she just take a peek.

Happily, the manager emailed back the next day, (today), and said indeed the earbuds case was there and they’d hold them for me!

Wow.

I just now picked them up.   Awesome! A big Thank You to whoever turned them in!

When I got there, I could tell instantly that the woman at the desk was the same woman I’d talked to on the phone a couple days before―by both her voice and demeanor.  As soon as I said my name, she knew what I was there for and asked her co-worker to have me sign for them in the logbook and then she walked off.

The co-worker flipped open the famous logbook, and I had to initial a block saying I’d received the item back. 

And the place where I had to initial/sign was right next to where I could see that a full, accurate, and contemporaneous entry of my earbud case being found had been made on the morning of Christmas Eve, at a time shortly after I left the gym.