Pray For This Canadian, Who Dropped Her iPhone Onto A Stranger’s Balcony

We all like to dance with disaster from time to time; a little flirt with fate never really tends to do much harm. But despite our best efforts at looking cool and collected there’s not a person alive who, when leaning on a balcony and staring into oblivion, doesn’t clench the sphincter a little tighter; doesn’t grip the rail a little harder; or most importantly, doesn’t hold the iPhone they’re clasping a little closer.

But it would not be a risk unless there were consequences, and the luck of one Canadian woman has officially run out, it would seem.

Liz Bertorelli, a Toronto-based person of the internet, realised the worst fears of any apartment-dweller who’s texted while punching a dart: She dropped her phone down onto the neighbour’s balcony below.

This is, quite obviously, a bit of a pickle.

Through the use of her trusty laptop (dancing with death by dangling that over the edge too to be quite fucken honest) Liz detailed her efforts in trying to get it back.

A knock on the neighbour’s door proved fruitless, with whoever lived in the unit very much not there.

At first, the efforts to get the phone back relied on a little patience and neighbourly intervention.

But thanks to a bastard wind, that went out the door (or off the table, as it were) real quick.

Maybe if that doesn’t work then the solution to retrieving a piece of modern technology would be to use a different piece of modern technology.

But that didn’t work out so well either. With time the enemy, Liz left the poor, stranded iPhone on the balcony and headed off for work, making sure her beloved had enough food to get it through the day.

Disaster soon struck, however, thanks to Canada and its unpredictable weather.

After so long apart, Bertorelli clearly begun moving through the different stages of grief.

After another knock on the neighbour’s door yielded nothing, a small glimmer of hope arose: The phone! It still lives!

From that point on, protection was the name of the game. It might’ve survived one battering from a storm, but any smartphone user will know that’s not a set of dice you’re willing to roll twice.

As the night wore on, the chances of getting the phone back grew slimmer, but the chances of sucking back a coupla delicious wines grew far, far greater.

And that’s where we leave this yarn. It is just past midnight in Toronto at the time of writing, and the phone is still – presumably – hopelessly stranded just out of reach.

What will become of the poor, misplaced phone? Will a contraption of Rube Goldberg-proportions be sourced? Will they attempt a rescue operation of such daring proportions it might as well have been a deleted scene from San Andreas? Or will the grim outcome of no help manifest, forcing poor Bertorelli to watch helplessly as her beloved phone slowly dies right before her eyes?

The suspense is KILLING US, oh god.