Here’s a story of a guy who lost his iPhone while visiting Chicago, and tried to use the new Find My iPhone feature–and it worked. In this case, he left his phone at a restaurant, where a dishonest person walked off with it, fairly clearly intending to keep it for himself. The owner had just activated the “Find My iPhone” feature, and though it showed no activity in the first day after it went missing, it eventually started working, showing the phone’s general location.

Despite multiple messages to the phone, there was no attempt to return it. The owner asked for the phone’s return, and even offered a $50 reward. When he went to the neighborhood where the phone’s GPS showed it was located, he noticed it was a Spanish-speaking community and even drafted a message in Spanish. He could see that the messages were getting through and showing on the phone.

So they instead attempted to track the thief. Initially, the phone simply showed as being in a large area that contained many large buildings. They messaged that they were in the thief’s neighborhood, naming streets. The culprit perhaps panicked, leaving his building (where GPS could not function accurately) and going on to the street (where GPS works much better). The owner could see the movement, and even better, the increased GPS reception narrowed the phone’s location. Eventually, they tracked the phone down to a bus stop and found the guy, who gave back the phone. Score one for the iPhone!

One thing about this story reminded me of a personal experience which is still a particular peeve with me today: people who steal stuff and then claim they intended to return it. That’s what happened in this story. However, such claims are usually not only false, but remarkably transparent lies. What, the guy found the iPhone on another customer’s table and didn’t think it was a good idea to give it to the restaurant manager? Or to look up the phone number of the person or one of his contacts and call them to make sure the phone got back to its owner? Bull. The guy was a thief, or else the world’s worst and laziest “good” Samaritan.

The same thing happened to me in college, except with a calligraphy set. The set was not too valuable, but contained a large, square marble hanko (“chop” or seal) which held great sentimental value to me.

I had been walking to the parking lot and for some reason had stopped, put the case down, did something else, and then walked away. The walkway was out in the open alongside a building and was unpopulated at the time. When I arrived at the parking lot, I realized I had left the case, and in a small panic, ran back for it–and it was gone. The walkway was again empty, though I had passed a few people on the way back from the parking lot–I didn’t focus on them at the time, but I did pass someone.

About ten days went by, no returns to Lost & Found. So I published a reward for it in the school paper. Soon after, the “finder” called me to claim the reward. When I met him to get the case back, he lamely asserted that he had fully intended to bring the case to the college Lost & Found but “hadn’t gotten around to it.” He said that he had picked it up to “make sure no one would steal it” (ha!), but didn’t immediately return it to Lost & Found because he was on his way to the parking lot to leave school. Which means that, if true, he was one of the people I passed on the way back. He found a lost item, then saw someone scrambling back to that spot, and didn’t think to shout out, “hey, missing something?” And then he failed to return or report the item for ten days, but “just happened” to be scouring the school paper for rewards a few weeks later and noticed my ad.

The kicker: he actually complained that I was paying by check instead of cash, as if I could not be trusted.