Quick update.
Lost my wallet.
Then lost my phone.
…and with it, every email, social media account, even my chess.com login. 😭
But weirdly enough… what an opportunity it was.
My Situation
Suddenly, I couldn’t pay for food or shelter.
So there I was, thinking I’d just shut my jets off for a while, and now I had no option but to turn them back on.
Pure survival instinct is back, baby, after only three days of rest.
I create from nothing, so that’s exactly what I did. In the 25th hour.
Short Version
- I had my debit card number memorized.
- I went to Vodafone and explained I couldn’t pay for food or shelter. They didn’t care about my life. But I did.
- Went to a Select Apple Reseller to buy a phone. They also didn’t care about my life. But I still did.
- They gave me directions to the public library so I could order a phone online and pick it up in store.
- Me: Uhhhh… Can I just use someone’s phone real quick? Whole life and all?
- Them: Appreciate you asking n' shit, but we’re good.
- I met Julie, who waived the £1 guest pass to use the public library. Absolute angel.
- She also let me use her phone to create an email, and waived the fee to print the email confirmation.
Core Lessons
- You need a physical payment card to order a phone in-store.
- You need an email to order a phone online.
- You need a phone to create an email.
- You need money to use a public library to create an email.
The New Phone Saga
Eventually, I ordered the phone.
Then I learned it can take up to 24 hours for a new SIM card to activate.
So I couldn’t download any apps. No Apple Music.
Just the default apps that come with the phone, some tunes on safari and whatever phone numbers or email logins I had memorized.
After 24 hours, I hopped on Safari and messaged Voxi, who carried my new phone plan. I told them my story. They were super understanding.
Truth As Weapon
Here’s the thing: I’ve never liked lying.
But so many people hear the truth and then weaponize it. It’s sad.
Still, I decided to tell the truth at every step. Even when it made life harder.
Survival Mode
Meanwhile, I’d been eating at the Central Methodist Church.
Basically like an all-you-can-eat buffet for homeless people, from 8:30 to 10:30 AM.
There, I met Mel and Neil.
Fun fact: most of the homeless folks around me are actually on PIP—Personal Independence Payment, I believe.
Pretty luxurious compared to my situation.
They’ve got working phones, vapes, cigarettes, and a weirdly steady income stream.
When I met Mel, for instance she wasn't going to the art gallery for food, because she’s taking a one-hour bus ride to the beach.
Me: ???!!??!
She literally asked if I wanted to come along.
“I’ve got loads of PIP. I’ll buy your ticket,” she said, hitting her vape.
Meanwhile, I’m over here like:
“Wish I could, but I need to stay and collect food from the gallery.”
(…but Mel's now sunbathing with disposable income.)
Banking Hell
The only business in York I've found that accepts my debit card from memory happens to be the place I’m staying. So I paid through tonight.
But I can’t transfer money from savings to checking. Or even view my checking account at the moment.
So… yesterday, I went to a homeless shelter.
They couldn’t accept me because, “you have money.”
Yeahhhh, but I can’t access any of it.
“Call your bank for a new card,” they said.
Me: “To what delivery address?”
So I called the bank:
Bank: “We can only send a card to the address on file.”
Me: “Can you change the email on file so I can verify the card in my Apple Wallet?”
Bank: “Sure!”
They changed it.
Me: “It hasn’t worked yet. I’ll try again later.”
Bank: “We’ve changed the email back to the one you no longer have access to.”
Me: ?!?!?!?
Then they dropped this gem:
“We’ve deactivated your debit card for your protection. It’s been compromised.”
Me: ?!?!?! That’s my only lifeline. It’s not compromised.
Bank: “It’s policy. Have you found your card?”
Me: “Disrespectfully… fuck your policy.”
Okay I didn't say that. It wasn't helpful.
To Lie or Not To Lie
So this was the dilemma.
Sure, I’m in the thick of it—but I’ve only just found myself.
I hate lying. But the truth sometimes gets people upset. Or they use it against you.
Lying could get my card reactivated.
Telling the truth could set me back even further.
But I thought: What would Jesus do?
That son of a.. umm... Mary... would tell the truth. So I did too.
Here’s what I wrote to the bank:
My Email to the Bank
Kristie,
I want to be honest with you: I have not found my lost debit card.
I understand that, according to policy, this typically means suspending the card and disabling it in Apple Wallet for my protection.
That actually makes my situation even worse, not better.
I am in a situation of urgent and extreme need: I currently have no access to food, shelter, or any other way to survive without the funds connected to that card.
I fully understand the risk of potential fraud and am willing to take that risk.
Right now, being able to use my Apple Wallet is the only thing keeping me from going hungry or ending up on the street.
I’m not asking for rules to be ignored lightly.
I’m asking you to see me not just as an account number, but as a person facing a real crisis.
Please consider making a compassionate exception so I can access what little I have and get through this difficult moment.
Thank you for your time, and for any help or grace you can offer.
Sincerely,
Dalton Bristow
The Bank’s Response
The bank said:
“We can turn your card on for 30 minutes.”
Me: ?!?!?!
How It Ended
So when it’s 11 PM and the bank tells you you’ve got 30 minutes to find food and shelter with your debit card…
You smirk.
Because you just found free donuts on the app Olio, only half a mile away.
And when you get there, Amy, the beautiful soul, hands you an entire grocery bag full of sandwiches, fruit, and salads.
What I Found Out About Myself
I remember the details that matter.
Like my debit card number, random logins, and where to find free donuts at midnight.
I can keep my humor even when things suck.
I laughed about free library passes and PIP-funded beach trips, even while borderline homeless.
I value truth over comfort.
Given the choice to lie to my bank or tell the truth and risk further chaos, I chose the truth. Because that’s who I am.
I’m adaptable as hell.
Three days ago, I was “resting.” Next thing I’m hustling food, shelter, and a phone plan like a Wall Street day trader.
People can be both cold and unbelievably kind.
Some couldn’t care less whether I ate. Others (like Julie and Amy) saved my ass without blinking.
I’m resourceful beyond belief.
No phone? No email? No problem. I’ll talk my way into the library, figure out online orders, and track down sandwiches in apps I barely know how to use.
I’ve finally started reading the Bible willingly.
That’s a first. Maybe this chaos cracked open something spiritual in me.
I’m not afraid to advocate for myself.
I’ll plead my case—respectfully or colorfully—because my life depends on it. And I’ll do it well.
I know I’ll always figure it out.
Even when everything falls apart, I’ve proven I can build from nothing. And that makes me proud.
I’m surrounded by a bizarrely colorful cast of characters.
Like Mel who skipped the art gallery for the beach, and Neil who thinks he’s Jesus’ twin brother. I’m weirdly grateful for every one of them.
I have no idea where I’ll be sleeping tomorrow.
But I care more about truth than systemic bullshit.
And I know one thing for certain:
I’ll figure it out.
So apologies to anyone who may have thought I’ve given up on them—or on this blog.
I haven’t. I had to reprioritize.
I’m hopeful I’ll find my phone. I know where I lost it, so its only a matter of time it shows up.
The biggest lesson?
Remember the Ten Commandments: You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.
aka Don't lie.
So to everyone and everything reading this:
I’ll keep telling the truth.
Will you?