Gone too soon: In memory of my Beats by Dr. Dre Solo HDs

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My Beats by Dr. Dre Solo HD headphones were stolen from a place where I thought they’d be safe, and I feel violated. I feel betrayed. And I’m more than a little angry.

You see, when replacing malfunctioning Skullcandy headphones stopped being cost effective, my Beats were there. When my Bose in-ear headphones couldn’t meet my bass-heavy demands, my Beats were there. And when the autumn chill became winter frost, Beats by Dre, you were there.

But it’s the location where this heinous crime occurred that frustrates me most: the very office where I work — the place where I spend my days.

Regretfully, I was lulled into a false sense of security and thought my belongings would be safe. More than two years working somewhere without incident could do that to a person. I was trusting; I was reckless; and I was wrong.

The harsh reality is that I spend the majority of my time chained to my desk. It’s practically a second home. In fact, I routinely spend more time in front of my work screen than I do in my own bed. My cubicle’s nooks are more familiar to me than the cabinets at home. Everything is, usually, in its place. It’s why it took longer than necessary for me to realize what happened.

I discovered the crime in the most heart-wrenching manner you could imagine. I was looking for something that should have been in its place, and only discovered emptiness. I turned things over and opened cabinets where I knew my Beats wouldn’t possibly be — all in vain. They were gone.

My goal was to grab a few minutes to enjoy the great Logrithmic’s latest directorial achievement. The video was loaded, so buffering wouldn’t be an issue. I was ready. All I needed were my headphones.

Imagine the lethal combination of confusion, frustration, and depression all arriving in waves once I accepted that my Solo HD headphones weren’t where they were supposed to be. I was vacuumed into emptiness on a dreary Monday morning.

And now, all that’s left of my beloved headphones is a one-sheet theft report, filed away in security’s abyss of injustice. Sadly, that’s the only recourse building security could offer. They planned to examine the weekend sign-in sheet for a culprit, but everyone knows the impossibility of tracking something after the first 48 hours. My Solo HDs became the property of someone else.

*****

Beats by Dre Solo HD, you were my symbol of hope — a realized dream of enjoying music on my phone in comfort, answering incoming calls with one microphone squeeze, and tuning out the distractions of a bustling city that rarely connects with me.

We were always one, isolated in self-imposed darkness with only the voices of strangers timed to rhythm and the melodies thumping into my ears. The music served as a reminder that an entire world actually existed beyond the ‘play’ button.

It wasn’t long until I realized the red, lowercase ‘b’ over my ears wasn’t only a logo, but a symbol marking your status among the materialistic. Strangers stared, with the more daring individuals actually conjuring up the nerve to interrupt my listening zone, only to ask about my headphones.

“How much did you pay for those?” they’d rudely ask, as if they’ve never heard of Amazon.com. I couldn’t always be bothered to tell every one you arrived at a reasonable price through timely promotions. They normally looked at me as if I was speaking a foreign language anyway.

“$200,” I’d respond carelessly, but not without noting their bewildered expressions.

Of course, you and I knew the truth. They didn’t need to know the rest, even if the answers were a Google search away. And, thus, your memory becomes a lesson of resources and what happens when they’re not properly explored.

For some sad souls, stealing is a more efficient usage of time than researching.

*****

To the individual who thought it appropriate to violate my privacy and claim my property as their own, I hope you’re satisfied. Make no mistakes about it, I think you’re a deplorable human being. I don’t wish any harm on you, but I pity your cowardice and resent the people responsible for raising you into this pitiful excuse for adulthood you believe you’re living.

If there’s an ounce of decency inside you, I hope it pounds you with pangs of guilt every time you note the quality bass the Solo HDs provide.

Those were my first pair of Beats by Dr. Dre headphones and I loved them. So much, in fact, that I bought a white pair for the lovely lady in my life a few weeks after mine arrived. You’ll love my headphones, too — even though you don’t deserve the pleasure.

By the way, the Solo HDs were relegated to office duty after I upgraded to the superior, battery-powered Beats Studio headphones earlier this year. You may have frustrated me by stealing something that belonged to me, but I’m still enjoying music better than you can. Chump.