Who Gives a Shit: Trusting Someone To Watch Your Laptop While You Pee?

"Excuse me, would you mind watching my computer for a minute while I use the restroom?" 

I work in coffee shops five days a week and am asked this question no less than twice a day. "Sure," I shrug, and as the person skips to the loo I stare at their MacBook Pro for exactly three seconds before going right back to my own computer. I'm happy to keep it in my periph and all, but I'm not going to completely halt writing insightful mediocre FIPS articles or perusing Steve Guttenberg's IMDB page to stare protectively at your Macbook while NOTHING THE HELL HAPPENS TO IT. No one will notice it's been left alone, nor will it grow legs and crab walk out of the coffee shop. 

Once two iced coffees have coursed their way through my body I too will ask someone sitting nearby to keep an eye on my belongings while I use the restroom. This will often be the same person whose laptop I just listlessly guarded, as the role of babysitter and babysitee are interchangeable. And most of the time when I get back from reading snippets of sage advice scribbled on the bathroom wall (see: "Love thy butt, for without it how would you poop?" -- Tea Lounge), I notice that not only is my laptop's babysitter completely engrossed in their own work, but when I sit back down and say, "Thanks!," they look up with furrowed eyebrows as if to say, "Wait, thanks for what?" 

In four years of playing and witnessing this common trust game I've never seen a theft, nor has anyone ever stolen my possessions (knock, knock). I may be naive, but because I frequent the same coffee shops and regularly see the same faces, I feel a sense of comradery amongst my fellow Park Slope latte sippers and bagel munchers. We're all here to enjoy our caffeinated cups and exist in harmony. We've all got each other's backs, right? 

Then we received this embittered email from a FIPS reader, and my life got flipped turned upside down:

My friend just got his laptop stolen at Starbucks in Park Slope today [presumably after stepping away from it], and I was shocked! Should I be? I mean, for some reason, I thought Park Slope was full of gentrified hipsters with too much green and no reason to steal. I feel safe walking along quiet dark sidewalks at 12am. Should I be? Why would anyone be stealing laptops, from the 7th Ave. Starbucks no less? What kind of clientele do they serve, and why wasn't anyone paying attention? I am ridiculously angry at my fellow man right now, and feel like there should be some way for the PS community to rise up and throw some angry message at this unidentified asshole.

First, I realize the writer of this email is a turd for blaming the Park Slope community for not protecting someone else's unoccupied belongings. Second, before you get all mean in the comment box and tell me I'm a grossly misinformed idiot, I realize that this is a common thing that happens in plenty of coffee shops -- I've just never considered what I would do if I returned from the bathroom and found my laptop missing. Would I go apeshit on my 60-something school marm couch neighbor Barbara for not jumping the perp and making a citizen's arrest? Would I scream at her? "WHAT THE FUCK, BARBARA! I ASKED YOU TO WATCH MY SHIT!" No! I absolutely would not, because in this scenario Barbara walks with a cane and I'd be a total asshole. I was the one who left my precious laptop all alone like an unwanted stepchild who farts too much. If someone swipes it that's totally on me.

So why bother even asking someone to babysit our stuff? Does this somewhat false sense of security simply put our minds at ease? What kind of expectations are we envisioning, and what kind of responsibility are they accepting?

When I say, "Sure, I'll watch your laptop," I pretty much mean just that: I will let my eyes fall on it now and then. I'm not signing up as the Kevin Costner to your Whitney Houston. I will not take a bullet for your Dell. And yes, you can argue that if I were to yell and alert the room of an in-progress heist I'd technically be holding up my end of the bargain, but unless someone else in the room plans on roundhouse kicking the thief, your computer's as good as gone. 

As Park Sloper and Tea Lounge regular Cooper said in a recent blog post regarding the same subject matter: But If we can't trust the room as a whole, what makes the person we sit across from trustworthy? Proximity seems to play a big role. So is the person who's physically closest to us more honest than others? Of course not! Then why do we endow this person with our faith?

Touché, Cooper. Too-SHAY.

In addition, would I ever leave my purse or theoretical baby in a distracted stranger's care while going to the bathroom? Nein, folks. Not a chance. So why do we do this with our laptops? Why not just take them to the john with us? There are two possible reasons:

1. Our laptops tell other people looking for a place to perch that we're sitting the fuck there and don't even think about it. Know how hard it can be on a Sunday morning to find a decent spot near outlets/a window/that hot guy who sips espresso and reads The Great Gatsby without looking like a pretentious douche? VERY HARD.

2. It's such a huuuuuuge P-in-the-B to pause your Pandora playlist, unplug your headphones, put it in a case and haul it to the shitter and back. Plus, you don't want to interrupt your illegal download of the final Harry Potter movie, right?

Are either of those factors worth getting your computer STOLEN? No. So here's a quick fix to the above (which I'm sure pa-lenty of you already do because you're way fucking smarter than I):

Bring ANY article of clothing to drape over your chair, and fucking deal with the extra 5 lbs of weight because your computer is probably valued at least $1K and it's KINDA' worth it.

AmIRightOrAmIRightHere?  

So I've started doing just that. I leave my tattered avocado cardigan on the chair and take my laptop bag and purse to the bathroom with me. A few times I've received rude glances from those around me. I imagine they may be thinking, "What, you think one of us wants to steal your fucking shitty MacBook with the sticky space bar and extensive Glee soundtrack collection?" The answer is probably not, rude-glancer-with-a-cappucino-foam-mustache-that-I-was-going-to-point-out-but-now-I-won't-because-you're-a-dick. But I'm not going to risk the chance that some Lea Michele-lovin', sticky space bar desirin' A-HOLE is gonna' swipe it and leave me to rely on learning to write by hand.

Recently a man ran after me on my way to the bathroom juggling in his arms my cardigan, chapstick, shitty ear buds and two books, which I had left on the table to hold my spot. "Miss, you forgot these!" he called out, believing that because I was taking my laptop, I was straight up leaving the joint. "I'm just going to the bathroom," I said, and he looked utterly confused.

So now that I've cracked the eggs in the frying pan to show us all our brains on drugs and whatnot, I'm curious to know what you all think of this issue. Has your laptop ever been stolen from a Park Slope coffee shop? Has someone ever attempted to steal one that you agreed to babysit? Have you ever stolen an unatttended MacBook Pro? (if so you're a total dick).

Let's talk, FIPSTERS.