One phone short

It's summer, and that usually means the weather gets warm and people are off on holidays this where and that. Most of the people I have on facebook are on about "going off to hols" or "coming back from blah blah obscure country". I don't have holiday as such. I do, however, have a flexible job, that allows me to schedule my shifts almost with 100% liberty. And that's why I'm in a bus to Sweden right now.

I took the train to Malmö, first. Had bought my train ticket from Malmö to Halmstad in advanced. Booked it online, paid for it online, and printed it from home. Uncharacteristically well prepared, I had printed a bus schedule from Halmstad to Hyltebruk (where my dad would pick me up). I had booked the train, so that I would have lots of time from getting up, to go around the passport office, and renew my passport.

I had already been there once, to renew my passport, with some rather spiffy pictures, taken at one of those usual little booths, you know. I had sported a goofy looking face. But a goofy looking face that COULD go as my normal serious passport face, to people who didn't know. People IN the know would instantly realize I was joking. Anyway, I got to the office and the annoying desklady started measuring my face on the picture with a ruler, and it was 2milimeters too short, even though I tried pointing out that she had started measuring from well above where my chin started. But oh well, she didn't want to go ahead. So I had to go get proper ones at a fotodealer. Annoying. But I managed to get it done. My old passport was annulled (it had expired anyway), and had holes punched in it.

So, on I went, taking the train to Malmö. There, I bought some drinks. Water and coke. And discovered that I had like just over an hour before my train left for Halmstad. That blew. I tossed on some headphones, and fired up my phone. Music makes dull moments bearable, imo. When I finally entered the train, I felt pretty tired, and I quickly dozed off, with music still playing. Minutes later, I was awoken by the dude across the aisle poking my leg. I guess I must've looked startled, because he seemed amused. He then pointed to my left, where the old lady sitting in the seat acjecent to mine, apparently wanted to get out. Why she didn't poke me herself, I don't know. I guess she had tried asking in a sot-to squeaky voice, but to no avail. She got out, and I sat down again, slightly annoyed. What she did, I've no idea about, but she was gone for a while.

Now I had booked first class. Firstly, because it was actually inexplicably cheaper than second class. And secondly, because it included free internet in the ticket fare. Yay. I wanted to yank my computer out asap, but knowing the old lady would probably be back any time, I didn't want to cause further fuss, from having to move that about as well, when she wanted to sit again. Finally, she came striding down the aisle, and I got up. She couped me though, by walking straight by me, without even glancing in my direction, and up to the complimentary tea/coffee stand. Total social faux pas, thanks to old annoying lady. I sat again, feeling sheepish. First the poke, then the faux pas. What would be next? Steal my stuff?

The ticket I had bought, and printed out myself, claimed that proper ID needed to be presented with the ticket, so the staff could clarify that you were in fact the guy who paid for the whole shebang. Not that I understand why they'd care anyway. But there we are. Apparently, for foreigners on Swedish soil, a passport was the only acceptable way of introducing your identity. I had a passport, but it expired in May, and had holes punched through it. I argued with myself, that they'd not care, but I still shook slightly on my hand when I raised it upon request. It went through smoothly though, and I felt chuffed with myself.

After annoying lady had finally returned with her crap, she started eating a banana. That's fine as such, but this one was juuust over it's due date, meaning the smell of dull banana really filled the area around our seats. It wasn't cool. And she also had problems controlling a cup of scolding hot tea, that was about to glide off the table every other second. Had it done so, it would, in face, have made me scream out in agonizing pain, seeing as my leg was first in line for a splash. Thankfully, she discovered the cup holder, and the disaster was averted.

With her in check, and pokey pokerson across the aisle engaged in conversation with somebody on his phone, I grabbed my laptop, and logged on. Fast and efficient. I was impressed. Of course, nobody was online for a quick chat, and nothing had happened on facebook worth mentioning. It's typical. So I spent my time reading on tvtropes.org - a new site I've discovered containing the pop cultural equivalent of Wikipedia. The amount of stuff on that page... yay. Time flew... literally. I looked up, and realized I'd be in Halmstad in like 5 minutes, so I quickly packed up, and got out, waiting.

So far no problems at all. But this is where it ended. The train arrived at 6:18pm, and the bus left at 6:34 - across town! I realized this only when waiting in Malmö, and spent a fair amount of time fearing the consequences of being late. Usually it would mean waiting like 30 minutes. But because it was getting late, the only other bus leaving today, would leave at 9:34pm, a staggering 3 hours later. Nailbitingly close call. Why oh why, I thought to myself. I've walked to distance between the train and the bus before, but always when I had plenty of time. I didn't now, and my only plausible solution was to get a taxi. Thankfully, plenty of them were outside the station. I explained to the dude, where I needed to go, and off we were.

Scared as hell, I hoped against hope, that we'd make it. Pulling into the bus station, I see the bus I need. Phew, it's still in the parking lot. I exit the taxi hurriedly, gather my bags from the trunk, and head into the bus just as it is closing the doors. Yay, I thought. I made it. I buy my ticket, and head back in the bus to find a seat. "I better text dad to let him know I made it". II reach for my phone. It's not there. Patting myself down, I realize it's nowhere. It dropped out of my pocket in the taxi. I'm wearing shorts with dubious pockets. Usually I can manage them, but it must've slipped away anywho. I just didn't feel it exiting the pocket.

This sucks. A lot. Foreign country, random taxi, random city, and they have my phone. It's a sort of expensive phone, and I had really rather not lose it. So now I'm gonna have to call everybody and his aunt to retrieve this damn phone. With my luck, the taxi dude is dishonest, and will claim he never found the phone in the first place. As soon as I reach dad, I'll try giving it a call. Damnation. I just hate stuff like this. Why can't it ever just be easy.

I'm in the bus now, writing this. Laptop is going short on battery, and my back and neck hurts from looking down and typing in a weird angle. I'd include pictures of my trip with this post, as is my new thing (adding pictures to posts, for readability), but since I lost my phone, there'll be none of that. Sigh.