I admit it: I’m a serial misplacer.

I’ve lost my car keys more times that I can remember. If I had a dollar for every time a server ran after me with the credit card I’d left behind, I’d be debt-free.

After repeatedly misplacing my wallet, I instead kept my driver’s license and one credit card in my pants pocket. But I consistently forgot to remove them before putting my pants in the washer.

A friend suggested an iPhone sleeve to hold my driver’s license and credit card. That also worked. Until it didn’t, on a recent Uber ride from downtown San Francisco to the San Francisco airport for my flight home.

As the driver and I chatted, I silenced my phone and tossed it on the seat next to mine. He drove off, and two minutes later, I was frantically and fruitlessly searching my pockets and backpack for my phone.

Luckily, I had my laptop. I used the “Find Me” feature to ring my phone, which was now headed back to The City in the back seat of that Uber.

No answer.

OK, I thought, I’ll access my Uber account on my laptop and message the driver. But to log in, you need more than your name, email, phone number and any of the usual security checks. Uber wants the first six digits of your credit card on file. But I had lost that card last year, and use PayPal for Uber rides.

I did find a “chat” function for Uber customer service, but surprise, surprise: You have to log in to use it.

No need to panic, I assured myself. My return flight was still an hour away, so I could borrow a phone and call Uber customer service.

But Uber doesn’t have a customer service phone line. There’s no help without logging in, which required the first six digits of my long-lost credit card.

So I focused on catching my flight back to San Diego.

I got more bad news at the TSA checkpoint.

My boarding pass was downloaded to my missing phone, and I didn’t have a printout. The TSA agent suggested I get a duplicate boarding pass, but I didn’t have my confirmation number (also stored in my phone). So I waited again while the agent confirmed my identity with a few questions and printed my boarding pass.

With 30 minutes until departure, I sprinted back to the TSA checkpoint, where the agent asked me for any alternative forms of ID: a library card (no), a prescription medicine bottle with my name on it (no), a check with my name and address (no).

The agent called her supervisor, who patched me through to a TSA office that helps ID-less passengers. More bad news.

It could take just 15 minutes to confirm my identity, but it might take longer. And if I missed my flight, I couldn’t repeat that ID verification for another 24 hours. I had visions of spending the night on a chair in the Southwest terminal.

The TSA agent suggested I rebook my flight for later that night and return to the checkpoint with plenty of time to verify my identity.

Another setback: My 6:00 p.m. flight was the last on Southwest to San Diego. So I booked a 7:45 pm United flight for $304, emailed my wife on my laptop and ran to the United counter.

A helpful TSA supervisor called TSA Central to confirm my identity and ushered me through the checkpoint. I had dinner (and a drink) and boarded my flight.

Once home, I accessed my Uber account by changing the phone number on my account to my wife’s, then used her cell phone to confirm the change. Then I changed it back to my number.

It took two days (and another $70) for the Uber driver to deliver my phone to my mom, who mailed it back to me. Meanwhile, I lost my $125 Southwest flight credit because amidst all the turmoil, I forgot to cancel my 6 p.m. flight.

Next time, Ill rent a car.

It cant cost $500 a day, and it will be much easier to retrieve anything I will inevitably leave behind.

Krueger is a freelance writer, editor and community activist. He lives in Talmadge.