The Weekly Croissant: The Lost Charger

A Series of Unfortunate Events in Dallas, Texas.

You know how small things sometimes turn into very big things?

Well, the other week I was out on tour with the Pony Bradshaw band in Texas. We played a show in one of the strangest post-apocalyptic venues I’ve ever encountered. This place was definitely a former strip club, perhaps they had just ripped all the catwalks and poles out of the main room, leaving a vast arena-like space with strange railings and a few lonely high tops tables.

Our set was from 11:00 PM to 12:30 AM. I kid you not. After doing a soundcheck at 4:30 in the afternoon, I became so depressed at the thought of sitting in this poorly heated, god-forsaken venue for five-plus hours that I decided to take myself to the movies. The only thing showing early enough was the Pixar film “Migration”, but let me tell you, the moms, pops, children and I, had a great time in those lounge seats eating candy and watching cute bird antics.

I made it back to the venue with time to spare and I was sure that I was a Goddamn tour expert. THAT’S WHEN I LET MY GUARD DOWN.

After the show, I hitched a ride with the opener back to Dallas, because I was flying home in the morning. I arrived at the hotel around 1:30 AM and gratefully plopped my luggage down. I threw myself back on the bed and picked up my phone, which was at about 18% charge.

It was then that I realized I had left my phone charger in the tour van. Don’t you bring an extra charger with you? you might be asking. Well yes, normally I do but I had left my first charger in Chicago the previous week (plugged in *behind* the bed, always a disaster), and this was already my backup charger. So, it was nearly 2 AM, and I was charger-less. I needed to be able to wake up in the morning, catch an Uber, pull up my flight details, and generally be in touch with the world while traveling, so being in a state of wholesome phonelessness was not an option.

I called the front desk… did they have an extra charger I could borrow? Did they sell phone chargers? No, they did not.

I was in a giant high-rise hotel. There must have been 200+ iPhone chargers in that building as I lay there, but somehow, I couldn’t use any of them. I walked down to the lobby to plead my case.

Hey, I said. “Do you happen to have a phone charger I could just use for a little while?” I tried again. “I have to catch a flight tomorrow and…” No they did not. But I could walk to the gas station down the block and buy one.

“Okay…” I said… so I gathered my wits about me and walked out the door. It was 2 AM. I was in one of those weird off-highway areas where nobody is on foot. It was cold! I started heading down the deserted creepy parking lot towards the equally sketchy gas station. God dammit, I thought. The wind was stinging my eyes and I began to feel very sorry for myself.

OK, I thought. I’ll just buy this charger and go to bed, it will be fine. I got to the gas station without being killed, but it was very empty. As I approached the door, I saw that there was a handwritten sign taped to it. “System down. Rebooting, back in 30”. What the actual F**K, I thought. How can it be this hard to find a phone charger?

Whoever was having a quickie or smoking a J in the back of that gas station was currently ruining my life. I looked around and saw that there was another hotel about a block and a half away. It was now almost 3 AM, and my phone was on 8%. I don’t know if it was the wind or my frustration but I began to shed a few tears. I walked into the hotel lobby and asked desperately if they had a phone charger. The receptionist pointed to the convenience store section on the opposite wall and I saw that the shelf labeled “iPhone chargers” was empty. “We’re all out” she said.

“Ok”, I said, “Thanks anyway,” I walked back to my own miserable hotel, looking around me and trying not to think about the 300+ episodes of murder mysteries I had watched in the past year, in which this particular situation consistently ended in gory death.

Back in the lobby, the scene had gotten decidedly more wild. A young woman was trying to convince the receptionist to send her some money via Cash app because she had supposedly been left without a ride. In one hand she held her phone, and in the other, she held the exact phone charger that I needed. “Hey!” I said, seeing that the receptionist was trapped. “Do you need a ride? I’ll buy you an Uber if you give me that phone charger!”

The young woman looked at me, “Well, she said… the thing is… this isn’t really my charger. So I can’t give it to you… but do you have Zelle? or Cash app? If you can send me some money, I’ll Venmo you…”

Dammit. I thought. Scam, and I’m not getting that charger.

“Nope, nope,” I lied. “I don’t have those apps, I’m sorry.”

In the meantime a few other people had wandered into the lobby. This place was popping at 3 AM on a Saturday/Sunday at this point… not a great sign in a hotel to be honest. I should have spent an extra $50, and the hotel probably would have had a damn courtesy charger.

An older man was sitting on a chair while a hotel employee helped with his bag. He looked unkempt and greasy, he was rocking back and forth on his seat, possibly tweaking a little, and poking at his phone. “Hey, you need a charger?” he said. “Yes!” I almost yelled. “I’ve got a bunch in my bags”, he said. “Just come on up to my room with me and I’ll find them”. As sketchy as this sounded, I saw that the hotel employee was going to carry his bags up, so I was seriously considering the offer, but he was taking forever to get moving.

“Does anyone know the address here?” he asked loudly.

I walked toward him to give him the address, since he had offered me a favor. I could see his phone over his shoulder, which was set to a very large font. He was clearly texting a sex worker (which is why he needed the address) “Oh baby baby, I need you to come over”, etc etc.

Jesus, I thought.

Another older gentleman was now standing by reception, watching the scene with skepticism. “Ma’am”, he said. “You wait here, I’ve got some chargers I’ll bring down to you”.

“You know what”, I said. “I will do that! Thank you so much”.

Greasy, creepy, tweaking man went off to his room, slightly miffed that I wouldn’t accompany him, and I sat down to wait for the kind man, who reappeared about 15 mins later with about 3 charger cables. Not one of which fit my phone.

The absurdity of the situation was blowing my mind. How could this possibly be so difficult?

Finally, the receptionist took pity on me, and called another employee. After about 20 minutes this guy emerged with not one, but two iPhone chargers, and gave them to me.

“Thank you so so much,” I said. “I think you saved my life. I can leave them at the desk in the morning!”

“You know what?” He said. “Keep them! You need some backups.”

GOD BLESS YOU ARTURO FROM THE DALLAS MARIOTT!

At 4:15 AM, I lay me down to sleep, feeling grateful to be getting the FUCK OUT OF DALLAS, in just a few hours. And friends, you will be happy to know that I now have not one, not two, but THREE phone chargers which I will be taking with me on my next tour.