Lost Keitai

I had just got back into Nagoya on the train after a long international flight from Ireland via a six hour wait in Frankfurt airport. The sausages and sauer kraut were good, but it's about a 24 hour door-to-door and I was pretty zonked when I got off the train and into a taxi to finally head back home. I took my keitai out of my backpack in the taxi and noticed that it tasted of chocolate - there was a old broken chocolate bar in the pocket. Now, someone else is tasting my keitai because it never arrived back home with me. There are at least eight taxi companies in Nagoya and I called them all one by one. They were very nice, but the chocolate covered keitai must be considered a delicacy in the taxi-driving world. Still, I live in hope. I'll go to Softbank tomorrow and put the phone service on hold, but I reckon that I'll give the world a few more days to get over its chocolate addiction.

Incidentally, I passed a police car yesterday, so I asked to be directed to the nearest koban. I think that I may have interrupted a tense drug bust because the policemen were acting a bit strange. The young guy said "what's wrong?" and when he found out, he said that he'd take a report right away.
First question: "where's your gaijin card?"
Oops - I left it with my passport when I got back from the airport.
Second question: "you know that you have to carry it at all times?"
Darn, here I go, heading for the starkness of a Japanese prison without even the sustenance of a chocolate covered telephone.