I don't know what's worse...

... losing a cell phone and not having a clue where it is, or losing a cell phone and knowing exactly where it is... but not being able to get it back.

Here's the back-story:

Since I didn't need to make any calls the other evening after getting home from work, I didn't realize my cell phone was missing until the following morning when I was preparing to go out.  I could have sworn it was in that jacket pocket... but maybe I'd taken it out when I got home. 

I looked in the usual spots and even asked Yonah if he'd been playing with it.  Nada!

So I did what I always do when I can't find my cell phone; I called it from the house phone and listened for the ring.  Only this time when I called it, it was busy.  Hmmm.  I called a few more times and still it was busy.

Finally after about ten tries, it started ringing, and a man answered... in Arabic.

In an instant I realized I must have forgotten to zip up the jacket pocket where I put my cell phone, so somewhere along my ride home on the new scooter the phone had fallen out.

I asked who I was speaking to, and the man replied (in heavily accented Hebrew), "I'm the one who has your phone".  There was something about the way he spoke that made me certain he was smiling.  This was clearly the call he'd been expecting since finding the phone... and he greeted me like an old friend

Arab:  I've been waiting for you to call.

Me:  You could have called me, you know.  My home number is programmed into the phone.

Arab:  I know, I saw it.  But when doing business it is always best to wait until the customer enters your shop.

Me:  We're doing business?  How's that?  You found my phone and I want it back.  Where are you... I'll come and get it.

Arab:  But of course we are doing business.  I have something you want... something you need.  This means you have to pay for it.  I think 500 shekels [approx. $135] would be fair.

Me [stunned]:  What?!  That's my phone you have!  I'm not paying you for my own phone.  You can tell me where you are or I'll have Cellcom trace this call to wherever you are.  Once they do that and bring in the police, you won't even get the small reward I was planning on paying for the safe return of the phone.  You'll go to jail!

Arab [chuckling]:  Now you are being naive.  Do you really think the phone company and the police are going to come to a little Bedouin village in the desert... just to get back your cellular?  I think they will tell you to go pay the small insurance fee and pick up a replacement phone from Cellcom.  But we're not really talking about your phone are we?  If we were you would already have hung up and driven to the nearest Cellcom to get a new phone.  No, we're talking about the hundreds of phone numbers that you have programmed into your phone's memory... numbers that it will take you months to replace.  And some of them you will never find again. Surely that is worth something to you.

Me:  What makes you think I haven't made a copy of my phone memory?

Arab:  You haven't.  If you had you wouldn't still be talking to me.

Me:  Look, I'll give you 100 shekels for the phone... take it or leave it.  That's what it will cost me to replace it.  You can come to the gas station at the entrance to Kiryat Arba at 1:00 this afternoon.

Arab... I'll accept 500 shekels... today here in my village.  Tomorrow the price will have gone up.

I vaguely recall yelling some obscenities at him and hanging up the phone.  Then I called up Cellcom and reported the phone stolen.  They immediately shut off the phone and asked me where I'd lost it.  I explained about losing the phone along the road and having spoken to the extortionist who now had it.

The customer service rep made a tsk tsk sound on the other end of the phone and explained that I should not attempt to negotiate with the man.  She said it was fairly common in such circumstances to arrange to meet and make an exchange... only to get robbed of your money, valuables or even your car.

While we were speaking she did a quick check to see if there had been any outgoing calls made since the time I had lost it the previous evening.  Apparently the extortionist and his entire village had spent much of the night waking up friends and relatives in Jordan and Saudi Arabia.  She assured me I wouldn't be charged for the calls, and told me where the nearest service center was so I could pick up a replacement phone.

It took less than 30 minutes in the store before I was walking out with a new phone.  But I was still fuming... precisely because it was new.  The ring tones were not mine.  The phone memory was empty.  The thoughtfully programmed preferences and painstakingly downloaded apps were nowhere to be found.  All of the stored messages were gone, gone gone.

For a moment I thought about how I might track down this Bedouin Arab, not really sure if it was to pay him his ransom or to exact sweet revenge.  But I dismissed these urges as quickly as they had come.  It was maddening to lose something that plays so pivotal a role in one's life.  But it would be madness to let an inconvenience transform me into a prisoner to - or for - an extortionist.

So the lesson we take from this, boys and girls, is to back up your phone's memory to your computer at least once a month. 

Oh, and needless to say, if your home, work or mobile numbers were on my lost phone, please send me an email or an SMS with your contact info.  In the mean time, please don't take offense if I haven't called to wish you a Chag Sameach (happy holiday).