Goners: My Journey to Recover Lost AirPods

A missing pair and a mysterious trail

Those of us who indulge in tiny, expensive electronics know that sinking feeling when you realize you’ve lost them. It’s the same routine every time. Pockets? Nope. Creases in the couch? Nope. Junk drawer? Nope.

But unlike sunglasses or other analog accessories, we can actually track the whereabouts of missing AirPods with GPS. Usually you see that they’re still somewhere in your house and proceed to flip your living room upside down. Or in my case most recently, they somehow leaped out of my pants and took a subway to the Financial District some 3 miles away.

Now, I haven’t been to FiDi recently, so maybe they fell out of my bag and someone picked them up. Or maybe I was pickpocketed. Whatever the case, there’s no use in trying to find them at this point. They’re goners.

About an hour later, like a jealous lover, I check their location again, and see that they’re now only a few blocks away from me near the park! I hadn’t been to the park in the last few days either, but they’re so close that I can’t not at least inquire further, so I put on some pants and dart out the door. 

Brooklyn Tech - the biggest high school in America - has just gotten out of class, and an avalanche of kids spill onto the street. I swim upstream against the current of teenagers, desperate to get to the pulsing blue dot on my phone before it moves again. When I arrive at the destination, it’s unclear if the GPS reading says the Pods are in a restaurant called Walter’s to the left or or a men’s boutique called Corridor to the right. I try Corridor first.

Walter’s (left), Corridor (right)

I walk up to the register where a stylish store clerk stands behind the counter.

“Hi, how can I help you?” the store clerk asks cheerily.
“I’m sorry, this is so random, but I lost my AirPods, and when I just went to track them a few minutes ago, my phone said they were here.”
“Oh no! How terrible! That’s just…just…awful. I can’t even believe it.”

I’m taken aback by how strong of a reaction I’m getting from the clerk. It seems a bit nervous. Maybe even a little…guilty?

“Yeah it is,” I say. “Has anyone, by chance, come in and returned any?”
“Well, I just got here a few minutes ago, but the guy who was here before me didn’t mention any missing items.”

He shuffles some things around on the desk, which I monitor closely looking for clues.

“Do you happen to have AirPods?” I ask.
“Me? As in myself? Well, yes I do. But I bought them, and they belong to me,” he chuckles nervously. “Although, funny enough, I don’t know where they are at this exact moment.”
“Interesting.”

He opens the staff closet behind the desk and continues moving things around.

“Can’t find them, huh?” I ask.

He keeps rummaging with increasing urgency.

“Ah!” he exclaims. “Here they are. Easy little things to lose, aren’t they?

He holds the pods in the air like a trophy.

“Can I see those?” I ask.
“Ummmm….sure.”

I snatch them out of his hand and examine them carefully. Mine have a tiny chip on the flap of the case, which these don’t seem to have. I also check my phone, and they’re not connecting, which they would if they were this close by. They’re not mine, I realize, so I hand them back.

“Well if some do turn up, do you mind giving me a call?” I ask as I jot my number down on a pad on the desk.
“Of course,” the clerk says smiling. 

I take a lean on a bike rack outside Walter’s to stake out the restaurant, studying the patrons sitting at the outdoor tables, wondering which one of them has my AirPods. I look down at my phone. The tracker still hasn’t moved. A party of three gets up to leave. As they walk away, I see if the tracker follows suit. No dice. They must still be inside.

I enter the restaurant and approach the host’s desk.

“How many?” She asks.
“Just one.”

She grabs a menu and gestures me over to a two-top sandwiched between two other tables. I study the groups seated on either side of me: their clothes, their accessories, their bags. They carry on their conversations without seeming to notice my intense gaze.

Someone from the table next to me gets up to go to the bathroom. Their friend who remains seated across the table takes out her phone and starts texting. Clocking the semi-open unattended bag hanging on the back of the chair next to me, I see an opportunity to investigate further. I check to see if the friend is paying attention, which they’re not, and I slide a pinky over the zipper to try to pry the bag open some more and look inside. My chest tightens as I inventory the contents inside: lip gloss, keys, wallet.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

The host has somehow appeared inches from my face speaking calmly into my ear.

“You don’t understand,” I say, matching her quiet tone. “I lost my AirPods.”
“And you think they’re hiding in this woman’s bag?”

The friend looks up from her phone at the host and me, concerned by our whisper fight.

“No, my GPS told me it was here,” I tell her.
“So you’re stalking her.”
“Well, they were in FiDi and now they’re here. Trust me, I’m just as confused as you are.”
“Out,” she says and points toward the door.

I get up to leave as the other friend comes back from the bathroom. The host trails close behind me as I make my way toward the exit. Passing the diners, I feel my opportunity slipping through my fingers, but I know my AirPods are in here. It says so on my phone! Just as I reach the door, I turn around and face the dining room.

“Excuse me, everyone! I’m really sorry to bother you,” I say.

The host’s eyes look like they’re about to explode out of her head.

“But do any of you happen to have my AirPods? I lost them last night, and my GPS says they’re here now. So if you’ve got ‘em just please tell me, and I’ll be on my way.”
“You need to leave now.” the host says with a quiet intensity.

She starts pushing me out the door, but I hold onto the door frame.

“I promise I won’t call the cops, just please give them back!”

She places both her hands on my chest and shoves.

“I know you’re in here!!”

My fingers give way, and once again I’m back out on the street. 

“Do not come back!” she says and slams the front door closed.

Back near the high school, I stand on the corner amongst the last teenagers still hanging around after school while they smoke their cigarettes and cool in their outfits. I check my phone again and see that the AirPods are now at a movie theater directly across the street, which I was just at the night before. Finally something that makes at least a little bit of sense!

Inside the lobby, there’s only one person at the box office.

“Hey, did anyone return some lost AirPods recently.”

As if they’re waiting for me to arrive, the cashier reaches into the drawer, and pulls out my precious treasure.

“They sure did,” she says smiling. “Someone actually just returned them. You just missed them.”

She places the AirPods in my hand, which brings such a surge of relief. I look at them closely, noticing the chip on the flap indicating that they are indeed mine. I check my phone, and sure enough, they’re already connected.

“Thank you so much,” I say to the box office attendant and walk back out to the street.

Outside again, I look around at all the people passing by, wondering who among them might be the good samaritan who returned my beloved AirPods. A mother pushing her child in a stroller? A construction worker getting into his truck? A couple walking into a market across the street? In reality, I know it’s none of them because the actual person responsible is probably already long gone, but in this moment I imagine it’s all of them. I see the good in each of us.

I take my AirPods out and press each bud into my ears.

“Hey Siri,” I say. “Play Olivia Rodrigo.”