Invoking the Prop Master

Ben had training on Saturday.

Early that afternoon I got a text from him telling me he'd lost the brand new Pro AirPods that I'd got him for our non-denominational winter holiday.

My heart sank. Probably as much as his. As you know, these things are not inexpensive, and even with a piecemeal AppleCare replacement, they'd cost more to replace than the original purchase. I was not happy.

He tore his bag apart. He cleaned out his car. I tore the sofa apart and looked underneath both it and the coffee table. I went through the laundry I'd just finished up. They were nowhere to be found.

As he was about to leave training, he asked if I wanted to run out to his school to look in his office and grab dinner on the way back. I said I did, although to be honest I wasn't at all hungry at that point.

They weren't at his office. Further, we temporarily locked ourselves into the parking lot at the school because the normal exit gate wasn't remotely triggered to open; it was locked with padlocks. I waited in the car while Ben let himself out the pedestrian gate and went back into the school to try and find the key. The keys he found didn't work. Thankfully there was another teacher on campus, and she was able to trigger the entrance gate allowing us to get out of the labyrinth.

We drove past the lunch spot where the Pods last appeared on Ben's "Find My" app. Nothing.

Hey Apple, what good is the Find My app when attempting to locate lost AirPods if it will only locate their last known location unless they're actually paired to something and broadcasting?

There were a couple other places he thought they might be: two classrooms where he'd been coaching teachers Friday afternoon. He didn't have access at those particular schools, and didn't have the teachers' phone numbers, so he resolved to email them when we got back home.

We didn't stop for dinner. Neither one of us was in the mood at that point.

More rifling through the sofa cushions. More going through pants and jacket pockets.

I was in the laundry room when I heard "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" from the dining room.

I walked in and found Ben with the Pods in his hand.

"I SWEAR I went though every damned pocket in my backpack and it was totally empty!"

I started giggling. Then laughing.

"It works every time," I said. "Every damn time."

While I'd been sitting in the school parking lot waiting for Ben to get the keys I remembered something from many years ago: when something is lost, you need to chew out the Prop Master for fucking up.

"Prop Master, you've fucked up! We need this prop for this scene in Ben's life!"

This never fails. Never. I don't know how or why it works, but I guarantee that the object in question will magically appear within hours—if not minutes after you do this. Is it magic? Does it confirm the existence of an intelligence beyond the physical? Does it point out another hole in the fabric of what we call reality?

I honestly don't know. All I know is that it works.