Would you keep a phone that wasn't yours?

The other day I was struck with a moral dilemma. I was out drinking with friends in town with the plan of heading over to Manchester the next morning to see my girlfriend. Now, we'd been out for quite a while and I was quite inebriated so we headed to a club. Inside, towards the end of the night I had the honour of finding a mobile phone on the floor, it was a bit tatty but looked like quite a valuable phone – all touch screen and no buttons, that's the definition of an expensive phone nowadays – and so without thinking I turned it off and pocketed it thinking “Excellent! A free mobile phone! I wonder what it's worth? I know, I'll sell it to those Envirophone people. That should net me some easy money!”

As the night ended I began to feel a little remorse for my theft as I always thought I had a strong moral compass and so – once home – I decided that I should do the right thing and return it. Now had I been at the club I would have just handed it in at the cloakroom but since I'd already brought it home with me that would prove to be a little tough. So instead I attempted to browse the phone book to see who I should contact to return it. This was a challenge. Whoever designed this phone was an idiot. I was so unfriendly! While attempting to navigate it's interface I opened the queue of unread messages and read a particularly harsh message from a disgruntled friend of the victim calling me a thief and telling me that Chelsea – the victims name as it turns out – would miss all her photos and contacts on the phone and that I was a really nasty person for stealing. It occurred to me that this was all true. I WAS a thief, she WOULD miss her pictures (probably) and I WAS a nasty person for stealing. As if I didn't feel bad enough about it already! Well thankfully for Chelsea I'd already made up my mind that I wanted to give this phone back and since I still needed to make contact with her, I figured the best way to go about it would be to reply to the text message. Now, as I've already mentioned this phone is a horror to use and so after around 15 minutes of trying to reply to her text I gave up and called her instead. It rang for a while and I was beginning to think that I wouldn't get an answer tonight (I'd not realised prior to this moment that it was 4:30am – remember, inebriated) but eventually just as all hope seemed lost she answered. This girl's name I still do not know but she was down in the phone book as 'Mayonnaise' so for the rest of this article I'll refer to her as May. May was in a taxi with Chelsea as it turned out and was immediately apologetic for her unflattering text that I'd read. While talking on the phone I would constantly be blasted with “I'm really sorry for the text message! Please ignore it!” and “Oh and the answer-phone messages too! Sorry!!” but once she was convinced that my feelings had not been hurt she passed the phone to Chelsea and we had a little chat about her phone and agreed to meet the next day to return it. My plan was to return the phone at 11 and then walk down to the station to catch a train to Manchester. It was a rock solid fool-proof plan and couldn't fail.

Now I had had a lot to drink that night and so my agreeing to meet this girl at 11am was perhaps a touch optimistic. I awoke the next day at roughly 11:20 and rolled in my bed for about half an hour before I actually remembered where I was supposed to be. I jumped out of bed and began to get dressed to get the next bus to town while also trying to call May again to tell her I'd be late. Unfortunately for me May's phone was off. I packed my bag and hopped on the bus and by 1:15 I was in the city – only a few hours late then! Unsurprisingly Chelsea wasn't around and I didn't have long to meet her either before I had to catch my train to Manchester. Getting desperate, I tried May's phone again. It was still off. I decided then to try calling another number from the unread text queue which turned out to be a chap called Michael. Michael was none too helpful, he sounded confused and aggressive and seemed to be more interested in who I was and how I'd gotten his number rather than the situation at hand. I told him to try and get a message to Chelsea to call her own phone so that I could meet her and return it. He didn't.

I hung around in town and did some shopping, all the time with the phone in my pocket waiting to answer if it rang. However it never did. Time was beginning to run out and my departure time was getting closer and closer so I headed to the station and tried one last time to get in touch but with no success. I pondered what to do with the phone for a moment. A good idea would have been to return it to the club but time was short and it was too far away, I could always just not meet up and keep it – such was the plan originally – no that wasn't an option, I'm above that I'd like to think! Then I had an idea – hand it in at the station! Good plan!

I headed over to the Station Manager's office and made out that I'd found the phone in the station (I was concerned that if they thought I'd found it in a club they wouldn't help – in this day and age I'm a touch paranoid I guess). I told the manager that I'd been in touch with the owner of the phone and that she was coming to collect it soon. I also told him her name for ID. Then I left it with him, sent a message to May and had 5 minutes left to get to my platform before my train was due to arrive.

Later that evening I received a text from Chelsea. She had picked up her phone and just wanted to express her gratitude once again. She also mentioned that if I was ever around in Sheffield on a Friday night we should meet up and she'd get me a drink. I replied that I was happy to help and take her up on the offer some time. I felt great. Honesty is truly it's own reward.

This was a few months ago now and I've still not taken Chelsea up on her offer. I doubt I ever will. It's just nice to do a good deed and nice to know that people still appreciate it. I was beginning to think that doing the right thing had no place in this day and age and that decency was dead but now I believe that it lives on in our hearts, we just need to do the right thing.

So the same question stands. Would you keep a phone that wasn't yours?