Last week my purse was stolen at the laundromat near my apt in the Lower East Side. It contained some cash, my beloved iPhone, and all my keys. After attempting to call my phone numerous times in (futile) hope that someone would pick up and the theft would turn out to be nothing but a misunderstanding, I sent myself a text:

“Please, it’s Christmas. If I lose my keys I will lose my job. Just return those, you can keep the phone.”

Of course my indifference to my unsynched iPhone was bologny fueled by the thought that something was always better than nothing. Moreover I had a full weekend of work at the office ahead and the thought of having no access to my work was killing me softly.

No answer. My roommate had us change all of our locks.

Yesterday, I got a call from Ludlow Fitness, my gym. “We have an envelope here for you. It has your key chain.”

Now, is that a story about a little ray of sunshine and a hint of benevolence in a frigid city filled with dirty slush… or is it still the story of an asshole who stole my phone, my contacts, my notes, my music and applications and came close to ruining my chance of respect in my company?

You be the jury.