Dear iPod Shuffle Owner

"maybe you know this word," an old city sightseeing co-worker started, "it's like narcissism, but it starts with an 's'..."

it was a weird day to start. after having to open the shoe store the night after closing the shoe store and the night after halloween, my brain was so far beyond exhausted that it hardly had room to be confused by the morning. i had worked eleven days straight and i was running on energy that didn't belong to me, hoping that enough red bull would help to decipher the odd happenings of morning people.

it was, i think, a weird day for you as well. we never met, but with what i know, it seems to have at least been a mildly off-day for you.

if i'm anywhere near union square, i'll swing by the front of macy's to talk with old tour guides, drivers, and sales-people. sometimes it's because i miss the people and sometimes it's because i need to be reminded that i do not miss having foreigners yell "downtown?!" at me while i'm trying to eat a hot dog.

"solipsism?" i asked.

"you actually know the word?" he seemed surprised, "i was going to use it on this girl i'm seeing because she's a total bitch, but i wasn't sure if i had the right word. my friend told me, 'you know, there's a word for girls like her,'..."

my phone rang. thank god my phone rang. i didn't want to hear the misadventures of his relationship and newfound interest in uncomfortable synonyms.

"you look nice today," cell phone-simon said.

i looked around. simon works at a hotel restaurant nearby, but shouldn't have been able to see me. i always feel so excited but so mildly embarrassed when people call me because they can see me. but i'm always psyched that i picked up the phone because it would be so much more embarrassing to be caught silencing someone.

"thank you, sweetie," i said, "where are you?"

"look up."

i looked toward the starlight room, on the top of the sir francis drake hotel-- the popular drag-queen cabaret and all-you-can-eat lounge for the rich. there is no way he can see me from there.

"what?" i said, "where are you?"

then i saw toby wave-- a few of them were camped out on the coffee tables of union square. but before i could hang up to head over, travis' girlfriend appeared out of nowhere, took two pictures of me with her dslr and ran off into the chaos of macy's shoppers.

why is everything so strange so early in the morning. mornings are worse than some of the greatest drugs i've ever done.

"tell me some more good words to use on her!" my co-worker shouted to me as i ran across geary to meet up with simon and all.

"deal!" i shouted dishonestly.

i suppose you don't care much about what went on my day, but i feel it partly relevant in the magic that our two [likely different] lives ever crossed paths. it was an unnoticed event, to the best of my knowledge, and it started at union square.

as soon as i reached the group, toby began running from me with a worried looked. a comical way of saying "hello" and "i've missed you."

"stop that man!" i shouted, "he has my phone."

no one did anything. not even you. you must've been sitting right there, observing the potential robbery. i suppose it's better this way rather than having to explain that i was kidding after you side-tackled toby. but both ways, it was a nice hello.

at union square i was entertained by a story about simon being punched in the face nine times by an angry 5 foot asian man who misinterpreted a conversation as unnecessary flirting with his ex-girlfriend.

what we didn't know is while we were discussing how at every great party someone gets punched in the face, throws up on a family heirloom, or has their car jacked, you were sitting quietly on the steps nearby.

you were listening to your ipod-- a shuffle, but set to repeat-- and probably heard little of our partying conversation. we were all unaware of each other and living in two separate universes while at the same touristy part of san francisco.

i don't know if you were male or female because i never saw you while you were there. and you don't even know i exist, but may be trying to imagine who i am or if i exist by now.

or maybe you haven't realized you left their ipod shuffle at union square.


when i found it i did a typical 360 degree immediate glance to see if you were nearby. it's kind of a stupid first reaction-- like how people find a door locked and look upward as if the answer might be at the top of the door-frame-- but everyone does it.

what do you do when you find an ipod at union square? i mean, what is the actual right thing to do? the best thing to do seems to be a combination of security as well as logical mind-reading. where is the safest, easiest to find, location for a lost ipod?

i thought about the union square security, but uniforms don't mean anything to me. handing them the ipod may have been just like handing the ipod to any other stranger. there was no promise the ipod would make it to you or that you'd even think to ask the union square security if it'd be found.

plus, you might've been on vacation.

i did consider putting the ipod back where i found it, but there were too many people nearby and i had already spent five minutes debating with friends over what the best thing to do would be-- so everyone knew what was going on.

no one cared about toby running off with my phone, but they were attentive when a free ipod was nearby.

i took it home with the intention of putting it up on craigslist's lost and found. craigslist has saved me more than water itself and i would love to help make the experience of craigslist more magical for you.

but when i got home, i re-remembered we had no internet. we couldn't even properly steal our neighbors' anymore. how does it all work out, anyway? i steal wi-fi, but can't bring myself to keep an unattended ipod shuffle. i don't get me half the time.

without the internet, though, i couldn't begin the returning process and so i had myself a widmer and a little bit of relaxation time. the day was not particularly abnormal, but i'd been awake since 7 in the morning and the day was at the very least strange.

and while i was sitting there, i got curious.

what's on the ipod? what was the last thing you listened to?

i know the idea was a bit voyeuristic-- me wanting to get inside you as a stranger; wondering what sort of music plays in your soul.

but come on.

when simon was telling me why that tiny man punched him in the face, and while we discussed the danger of baby anacondas at halloween parties, you were sitting just a few yards away-- plugged into your own world-- and i had to know what swept you.

the ipod told me this:

"...and nice quiet roads. it's good exercise and good thinking time."

there was no background music or sound and the woman's voice was clear and emotionless in the same way the muni narration never seems any more excited about fillmore street than it is about franklin. it was so calm and pronounced that i imagined it to be the same way a psychopath might admit they were in love with you.

were you listening to a self-help track? i had to listen to more.

"i've been learning how to cross-country ski for a year."

i started to imagine a tape full of uplifting messages-- sentences full of possibility and confidence-- and immediately i wished i had seen who you were before you left the ipod.

"i've done a lot of downhill skiing, but cross-country is completely different. i prefer it because there are fewer people around you and you can ski to some really beautiful places. i think somewhere like colorado is the best place to do it."

or perhaps it is not a self-help tape.

something about the very calm lack of emotion the narrator possessed, and the story of adventure the plot lacked had me confused. it definitely wasn't a self-help bit, but it couldn't be a book-on-tape either. there was nothing going on: just a sort of blank lady talking about things that related to each other.

"i have a friend from denver. and we often go away together for weekends and on vacation. we've been friends for about five years. i met her on a mountaineering course. and we've been good friends ever since. we have a lot of similar interests. my bicycle is a very important possession."

and she's a bit attention deficit. is this a conversational tape for those new to the english language?

"i've had it for about five years, and i've cycled thousands of miles on it. it's a good friend. i belong to the sierra club. mainly because they do a lot to protect the environment. they also give members discounts. i've been a member since 2004. i drive a big six-passenger car. it's not really my kind of car. i mean, i wouldn't have bought it myself, but it used to be my parents' and they gave it to me. it's great because it has a powerful engine. so it's fun to drive and big enough to get two bicycles in the back."

there's more i haven't listened to, but i would love to return your ipod and i'm not sure how. the device, unfortunately, has not aided me in finding you-- and neither has craigslist. i would really like to meet you. i don't drive a six-passenger car, but i've climbed mountains and that's something we can talk about.

i hope your day wasn't too weird, and if it was i hope you enjoyed it anyway.

confusedly,
president wishnack

p.s. if you are trying to learn english conversation i would love to sit down and chat because the lady in the tape makes me want to shove chopsticks in my eyes. you don't want to learn how to converse from her. i have chopsticks.