Don’t Try This at Home!

 I thought I’d left my phone in the Uber on the way down to shoot the No Kings Rally at the Arizona State Capitol in Phoenix, but no such luck. As close as I can figure, it fell out of my pocket as I was getting out of the car to start photographing the event. Or not. I honestly don’t know. All I know is it was gone. But the rally was in full swing, and it was lit! Here's link to the portfolio:    

https://www.patkofahl.com/No-Kings-Rally 

I shot for several hours. By noon it was 108°, and I had 1200 images, so I decided to call it a day. I finally made it back to the gallery, collected the dogs and headed home. Grabbing my IPad, I opened up the "Find My" app and started tracking my phone, which seemed to be jumping all over the city. The next day, Sunday, I made three separate trips downtown in the blistering heat, knocking on doors, walking the streets around the phone’s location, but no joy. 

Monday came, and I went to work. By quitting time I was almost ready to brick the phone and use my insurance to get a new one, but decided to give it one last try. The GPS on the phone kept reporting that it was stationary in an apartment in one of the seediest, drug-ridden areas of Phoenix, and as I headed South on 15th Avenue, the thought occurred to me, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

I pulled up and parked on the concrete pad outside a series of older, run-down apartments, knocked on the second door and stepped back, not knowing what would happen next. Eventually, the door slowly opened, and I peered into the pitch black apartment. Suddenly, two things happened. A guy about my size and build who looked like he had just woken up (and not in a good mood) stuck his head out of the door, and a small dog ran out from between his legs and started wagging it's tail sitting at my feet. 

“I have a reward for a lost IPhone.”

“Is the case black?”

“Yes it is.”

“Wait,” he said, and closed the door in my face. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened and an arm slowly emerged with my phone. He mumbled something I didn’t understand, and I exchanged a bill with Ulysses S. Grant’s portrait on it for my phone. The feeling of relief that washed over me was difficult to describe. It was a combination of relief that I had found the right place, I had actually recovered my phone, and that I didn’t get stabbed or shot in the process. I was stunned that it had all worked out. 

“Wait a minute,” I said as we stood there in the uncomfortable silence. I reached in my pocket and handed over the other fifty that I had brought along, just in case. He took it without a word. The door closed, and the thought occurred to me that our paths would never cross again. 

Fair enough, or maybe not.