There are over 2000 National Express buses in the UK.
Frau Random Doubt travelled on one to Heathrow Airport last Thursday.
She lost her phone.
It slipped down the side of the seat, or something like that.
I got a call from a payphone in the airport when she told me that, oh bugger, she'd lost her phone.
I called her phone company, got a lock put on the phone, called the bus company, asked them about it. They had me ring round the airport garages.
Everyone was helpful, The woman from Stansted airport told me that they get lots of lost property every day so it might turn up, then again. The woman from Gatwick airport told me not to hold out too much hope. The woman from Heathrow airport told me to call again on Monday but, to be honest, I'm thinking that we'll not be seeing that phone again.
Modern life is rubbish isn't it?
On Monday I'll give up hope and call the phone company again and deal with the fact that I'll have to shell out for a new phone.
Then today I got a text message. I was in Starbucks with the wee hen attempting to juggle toddler and mocha when one of Frau Random Doubts mummy chums asked me if she had lost a phone on a National Express bus? She had been phoned by a driver who wanted to return the phone.
I called a fella called Matt who spoke to a bloke called Steve and I'm meeting the bus tomorrow when it pulls into Hometown. then a geezer called Ian, the driver, wil return FRD's phone.
It's not that amazing but it's a lovely reminder that people are more often good and straightforward and helpful than not.