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I will not be robbed! This is how I returned a stolen phone from the central station - voila! Sheee

2022-09-15T23:09:34.079Z


Karin Arad's phone was stolen at three o'clock in the afternoon. After trying everything else, she and four other girls went to Central Station and returned the lost phone


Courtesy of those photographed

I will not be robbed!

This is how I returned a stolen phone from the central station

Karin Arad's phone was stolen at three o'clock in the afternoon.

After trying everything else, she and four other girls went to the central station and retrieved the lost phone from an Eritrean security guard, using a simple app

Karin Arad

09/15/2022

09/15/2022

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Returning Karin's (Liron) phone

I woke up on Wednesday morning from a strange night of confusing and stuck dreams - the doors didn't open, I couldn't run, I couldn't dial, and all kinds of things happened - I even remember reading a particularly evil talkback addressed to me personally.

I woke up in severe discomfort, but I shook it off quickly because it was my day off, and there was no way.



I took my time with the coffee and the shower, and I left the house at half past one in order to be on time for an appointment with Sharon Nails (that's how she appears on my phone) in a small street in the Shapira neighborhood, to do gel polish.



On my electric bike I set out towards the new central station in the south of South Tel Aviv.

I don't have a sense of direction, so after a few rounds I arrived (on time, because I'm a Yikeet and I knew to leave early), I called her and asked her for the entry code at the outer door, and I'm on a diet if I'm now scrolling through WhatsApp for our first conversation.

I called



"But mommy, you're an hour early" Sharon Novih informed me.

I protested, but after a short argument it turned out that she was right.

I was wrong, the turn for three.

I just left the house, and an hour is a bad time because there is not enough time to go home and come again.

For a moment I even considered giving up the queue.

But then I looked at my nails, shuddered in disgust and decided to stay.



The idea was to sit somewhere, drink something, read a book and pass the time.

I found the ultimate garden very close - shady and empty, and I sat down, satisfied with life.

Not a minute passed and the feeling of satisfaction faded, because I discovered that I had run out of rolling papers.

There's nothing annoying about that, really.

Or at least that's what I thought at the time.

After the stupid mistake of time, and just when I found a cute garden, now get up to buy papers?

This day started out annoying and it looks like it's destined to stay annoying.



No, I won't let it get me down.

I broke into an internal pom pom dance so that my spirit wouldn't fall, I drove to the nearest kiosk which wasn't really close, bought water and papers, and sat in the garden, tickled and proud of myself for staying positive.

I sat down on the bench, opened the book, rolled a cigarette, and put on headphones, because music is a must in such a situation.

Then I discovered the worst thing of all - the phone.

My.

No.

available.

Ira and Zurit prepare for battle.

Oh, yes, Stella too (photo: courtesy of those photographed)

There's no need to explain and describe the moments of horror experienced by almost every person when they rummage through their files and pockets and don't locate the phone within a minute, right?

So like that, only in the south of the city, which is exactly the opposite of London - in the south of the city, despair is less comfortable at all.



I looked everywhere, on the floors, in the garden, I even returned to the supermarket.

I can't count how many strangers on the street currently have my number because I forced them to call me.

One from the supermarket, one from the cafe, and a few more.

Then I remembered - I have a smart watch in my bag, and there's find my iphone, an app I've never used, but that's exactly what it's for.

Well, I strayed into the blazing sun - now is probably the best time to try.



"Where will you go?"

I heard someone ask me in Dror Rockenstein style, "Aren't you coming to me?".


It was Sharon Nivi, who had just gone out with the catalog to pee among customers.

"Oh, you won't believe what happened" I told her what happened to me, I called the police from her phone, and reported to the indifferent operator who promised to open a call, and that a van would get back to me soon, and we went to the studio, to wait for the policeman, and to relax a bit between the bottles of nail polish.



While my phone is walking around Masilat Isharim Street 19, a few blocks from us, we drank cold coffee, and I have already started to get used to the option that the phone has gone, and tomorrow I will just buy a new one, even though I am still paying for the previous one.

Idiot, unnecessary, but there's nothing to be done.

I tried to remain optimistic: "It's just stuff, right? Of course it could have been worse" I joked out loud.

And Sharon compared and brought up: "Of course it's for atonement - maybe they saved you from something much worse."

Normally I would have tried to find out who the "rescuers" were, but at this moment I just wanted to be comforted.



If at the moment I have nothing to do anyway except wait for the police and track my phone which is currently in the prisoners of Zion 7, for quite a long time, so come on, why don't we do nails?

Black, short, and when we finished I called the police again, this time we tried to make connections.

It didn't help.

Another call to the operator taught me that I had to go to the police station to file charges if I wanted the policeman to even get up in the morning, a detail that apparently the first and second operators didn't know how to tell me in advance.

What helplessness.

It was already six in the evening.

I was exhausted, hungry, thirsty, and with a severe caffeine addiction.

And with a bad feeling because I couldn't pay for the nails, because there is no beat on the clock.

Then I remembered that I had made an appointment with a friend in my neighborhood in Florentine.



What do I have to lose?

It won't get any worse if I drink coffee, right?

So I drank.

We sat, chatted, it was fun, and of course for all good Israelis, everyone also had an offer to serve - the men explained with a burst of foam: "Submit a complaint, there's nothing else you can do," or "Leave, let go, you won't look at your phone again" .

The women reacted with much more emotion: "Oh, I can't believe it! My poor thing", "I would die if this happened to me", "When did you buy it?", and "Let's go, the central station is really close"

good to know (in advance)

The solution to knee pain is closer than ever - thanks to technology in the shoe

Submitted by Apostrophe

When we returned to show off (photo: courtesy of those photographed)

This proposal was from Ira, a quiet and gentle girl "Tell me, are you crazy?"

I answered her - what will we do there exactly?", "I will come with you" she explained to me slowly, so that I could understand the process "we will take the phone and go back to drink coffee.

Come on." I looked at her. She weighs all of 20 kilos, thin, thin, blonde, delicate and stubby like Talia from Big Brother, and I laughed in her face - "And what will we do if we get to an apartment building (the phone was now at Neve Shanan 17, if you asked yourself) in which at least one person lives in each apartment A family of five?

what should we do?

We'll knock on all the doors and ask 'Excuse me girl, maybe dad stole my phone from my bag?

There's no way I'm doing that.

I'm not stupid."



"Why? You don't think we can?"

Liron joined the conversation and added insultingly "Why do you think it doesn't make sense for us to go? What happened, you need a big and strong man to help you?".

It's skin and bones too, yes?

But with the attitude of Doron Cavillo minimum.

As far as she was concerned, I also insulted the entire female sex when I implied that two of us would not be enough against 30 Eritreans at the central station that we had just accused of theft.

Fucked up, come on.

one by one.



In the meantime, two more fettuccine-thick women joined us - they were also in favor of going.

In the dark, when the chance of finding the man is zero anyway.

From a situation where I'm really closed to myself that we're not going anywhere, at some point someone probably managed to break the resistance, and yada yada yada, I found myself walking through the dark streets of Aliyah towards Congress Street, to an address that is right next to the central station.



So stupid, so illogical, it's unbelievable.

Ira the Pushtaki, Liron Mafouda, Mor not to contact me because it cost me", and Zurit my pussy hurts, with her dog, Stella. All of them together, not including me, weigh a maximum of 60 kilograms. I also tried to find males to come help, but most of them didn't really want to - Only a single and special one agreed to come to support and act as a male presence at the time of Mitzvah. Collected, made atonement for him, also thin and Ashkenazi, and raised a dog named, pay attention - Rezach. Yes, yes. There are some problems there. (Bachelor by the way, name preserved in the system) On the other hand He is the only man who cared enough to help.



Remember how at first I resisted and in the end I was dragged into this suicidal trip?

It's because I'm a coward.

This is how I live, in disaster waiting mode, expecting the worst things to happen.

Insufferable.

But what - when the money-time comes, whether it's an accident, an anxiety attack, or the moment when we discover that we've arrived at an Eritrean slum where a few dozen men are sitting in the dark, playing cards and drinking.

Precisely in these moments, when the worst has already happened and there is no choice, or that's when I get overwhelmed, and drop all survival instinct and reasonable logic.

The occupation of the Hamara in Neve Shanan - watch

Returning Karin's (Liron) phone

"Do you know the company that sits there?"

I asked a big Georgian who had just closed the nearby store and was getting ready to go home and looked equally dangerous "maybe you come with us? Be a backup".

Of course he joined in, and now we were five girls and two men at the makeshift bar entrance.

I went in there with Assaf, and the frightened owner of the place, who in his life had never seen five angry white girls in his room at eight in the evening, immediately went over to find out what had been heard, who had been invited to the conversation about our relationship, where and why.



I showed him the watch "my phone is here" I explained to him "maybe I lost it and someone found it and it's sitting here", I described the device to him and asked him for permission to search.

"Found, found, not found, not found. Just turn off the music for a moment, we'll check and five minutes from now we'll be here" I promised sweetly.

He nodded, turned off the music, and explained to the guys sitting there what was going to happen.

They stopped playing for now, and just stared at us with interest,



The app has a button that makes the phone play a continuous sound so that it can be located.

I turned it on and we heard a promising sound.

"It seems to me that it's someone's alarm clock," says Assaf Ketan Al-Amona.

"Is this someone's watch?"

I asked with slight impatience.

People checked.

No.

I followed the sound until I found myself standing in front of the only sofa in the space, on which sat a thin and tall man, smoking a hookah at the end of the day.

The ringing came from his area, or from the couch beneath him - the man didn't move a muscle - just smoked and looked at me with a cheeky calm, as if he was going to deny it to death.

Of course, the searches in the sofa yielded crumbs and shekels, and the window of opportunity was closing.

It was clear to all of us that the beeping was definitely coming from the pants of Zohar Argov, the hookah player, and he still didn't move.



No choice.

I gestured with my hand to his pocket, and said - with a smile - "Soul, my phone is ringing in your pocket. Please give it to me."

He did not reply.

So I smiled wider.

Although man is the only animal for whom baring teeth is not considered a threat, I think I was very scary.

In a creepy scene of a psychic from a horror movie, those who smile while dismembering limbs.

"I understand you had a bad day at work," I continued - "but my phone is here, and I don't move without it. Trust me I don't want to be here" I poured my heart out to him "I don't want a mess and the police either. All I want is to be done with This. My phone. Please."

All eyes were fixed on us, it is not clear if it is very interesting in what is happening or because they are measuring the distance to attack us.

I saw Assaf calculate the shortest route to the car (he brought a hammer with him, it turned out to me in retrospect) and only then did the hookah hookah move his right hand, put it in his pocket, took out the phone, and gave it to me.

A True Story.



"Thank you" I said "have a good evening", I shook the owner's hand, and left, after the owner of the place made sure we deleted what we took, so that we wouldn't accidentally raid his illegal gambling house.

Assaf went to work, and the girls, me and the stolen cell phone returned to the cafe with a Yemenite step and cheers.

Although I insisted on staying optimistic for the day, the chances of us going there and actually finding the phone were so slim, I didn't dare imagine it.

Unbelievable that this is how it ended.

happy ending.

My gaze returned (photo: courtesy of those photographed)

We each dispersed to our homes, feeling at least as powerful as Dobby from Matunami 3, I came home to Big Brother, and I ordered a pizza from Giuseppe, because I was celebrating.

Little by little the adrenaline left my body, and accordingly my mind returned to it, and I suddenly realized what our problem, women, is with equality.



We are still a little surprised every time we do something alone and it is not clear why.

After all, what's surprising about us having a knack for solving problems?

We are smart, brain flexible and empathic enough to know how to smile when needed, put a reassuring hand when needed, and bite heads when needed.

So why do we doubt ourselves?

Is it really surprising that a person who possesses so many advantages would be able to accomplish a task without provoking antagonism?

Every time we discover that we can do everything on our own, and that the feeling of helplessness we live in is simply planted in our being and is very far from reality.



After all, if five men had to return a phone call, it is likely that the evening would have ended in brokenness and several bruises.

Of course then the police would come, and after they put everyone under arrest, they would find my phone broken next to the hookah.



It might be time for us to understand the somewhat stressful truth - not only can we do everything alone, but also together, in the end we find ourselves doing everything, because asking and explaining takes more energy and more time than just getting it over with.

Apparently, strength is not an acquired quality that you pick up in lectures and develop from the examples of others - strength is real progress, progress that you gain from actions, just like you gain muscles when you do many consistent repetitions of a certain movement over time.



For some reason we still try too little, break too fast, complain far too much, and are surprised every time something succeeds.

It's ridiculous, and it makes us sad.

It is impossible to make real change, neither social nor internal, without daring to take risks and responsibilities.

And when something is stolen from us, you just have to buckle down, and go where you need to go and get it back.

No help, and no police



about our promise to the owner of the place about deleting the footage - well, we lied, but we edited out everything that incriminates him, and we didn't close the business.

Why?

Because he asked nicely, and we are nice.

Yes, we do that better too.

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Tags

  • cellular

  • iPhone

  • women

  • female empowerment

Source: walla

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