An Open Letter to the Bastard Who Stole My Phone

 In London

T oday was glorious, wasn’t it? What a beautiful London day for a walk in the park, a catch up with friends, and perhaps a little ride on the moped.

And I’m so thrilled that today, of all days, you picked the moped option. I can just imagine how blissful it is to cruise around that London smog, sighting unsuspecting pedestrians, and promptly riding up to them (on the pavement, no less) to steal their phone. What fun! And I’m also thrilled that of all the people you could have done that to, today you picked me.

Indeed, I guess I was in that perfect spot; there were no other people around, I was happily messaging some friends simply trying to meet up, and I guess my phone just looked so tempting being clutched there in my hands. It’s true, I loved it too. You have no idea how many fond memories I made on that phone and the essential connection it gave me to my dear friends worldwide. Plus not forgetting the impressive library of cat pictures, reaction GIFs and future blog posts I had on there, which will now never see the light of day thanks to your churlish antics.

Although I might have been impeccably well dressed this afternoon, despite how I might have looked, I do not indeed have the funds right now to buy a new phone. I’ve important things to pay for, like my transport, groceries, and rent. And, by the time that’s out my account, usually I’ll have about 38p to spend on the rest of the month — it’s the price you pay for living in London, as I’m sure you well know. So in case you’re reading this and that cold, black heart of yours is capable of producing even a little of that emotion we humans call empathy, perhaps you’ll find it in your heart to send me even £1 on PayPal towards a new phone. But then if you’re going to do that you might as well send me £1.20 to cover the cut that PayPal take.

And now, as I sit at home in bed writing this, occasionally looking over to where my phone once sat and hoping that it’ll all be a dream, I hope that you’ll end up getting just as much enjoyment out of that phone as I did. I guess on reflection, though, it’s not going to be the biggest thing that’ll be vibrating in your bed tonight. Yes, you might have my phone, but sadly you don’t get the friends that come with it.

Those are still mine.

Olly Browning
Olly Browning is a freelance writer and designer based in London, founder of the creative agency Mighty Oak. Send your thoughts, hate mail, commissions, or any other business to, or tweet him @yourolly.
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