Sydney Levy’s Reviews > Middlemarch > Status Update

(CONT) of the train, I had to find a way to tell Charlie that I wasn't going to be able to meet him in Fort Greene Park, lest I stand him up, leaving him to believe that I had been kidnapped and dismembered/pushed onto the train tracks/otherwise met my demise. I don't have Charlie's phone number memorized, so I asked a very kind man to use his phone to call my mom to give her Chelsea's number (Chelsea hadn't responded to my call) so she could get Charlie's number from Chelsea and let him know of my plight.

All of this is to say that it is very important to memorize a few phone essential numbers or else keep a notecard of essential numbers tucked in your wallet, for you never know when you will be enchanted by Middlemarch and end up phone-less. I wept openly while I trudged through the train cars, jostling along with the gentle rock of the train. I described the debacle to the first train conductor I came upon, who had not seen my precious phone. Nevertheless, I persisted. I moved among the cars, heaving the heavy doors open and closed with one hand (coffee cup in the other) and asked each passenger who sat in a seat that resembled my own if they had seen an iPhone with a really cute striped case. None had. I continued.

I finally encountered the (frankly militant) train conductor who had originally scanned my ticket while I was still with phone. This was a good sign. Clearly, I was in the right place. She asked to see my ticket, which I no longer had (digital). I explained my predicament and glanced down to see that she, in fact, was holding my iPhone with my really cute case. She made me take a test to confirm that the phone was, in fact, mine. I guess maybe there are young beautiful girls who rove around LIRR trains asking if iPhones with really cute cases are being found and turned in so they can steal them? Not sure why I had to prove my identity, but whatever. I passed her test (unlocked my phone with my face) and the satisfied militant train conductor handed my phone back to me. She pointed the man out who had found my phone and turned it in rather than pocketing it. I thanked him profusely for his honesty and we lamented our society's dependence on and worship of pocket computers. I later told my mom to text the kind man whose phone I had used to call her and let him know that I had been reunited with my precious device. He responded, praising the power of community and wishing my family a prosperous year.