Phone Crisis: Averted
We all have our moments. Those moments where brain function temporarily vacates the premises and we do something ridiculous. Like forget to unplug the flatiron. Lock the keys in the car. Drive away with the cell phone on top of the car...
I have done all of the above, thankfully not all in the same day! Only twice in the 10+ years I have been driving have I locked the keys in the car. I don't count the time the key broke off in the ignition (What can I say?--I don't know my own strength.) The flatiron/straightener/curling iron thing...I remember leaving it plugged in and on once. (And being so relieved I didn't burn my parents' house down.) However, the top brain-function fail came last fall when I drove away with my (brand new) phone sitting on my car. But don't worry, this is a story with a happy ending.
It was a Monday and I had rushed home after work to go visit two of my good friends. It was still light outside, though with the changing of the seasons, darkness was falling faster and the air had a foreboding coolness to it. Hurrying to be on my way, I ran out to my car and saw my neighbor with his dog. It was just after I moved into the new place and not wanting to be the rude new girl on townhouse row, I said hello and was thus pulled into a conversation that lasted longer than I was interested in talking. The dog, who apparently likes nobody, is a big fan of mine and continued to stand close to me even after I was done petting it. The point? Somewhere in my exchange with this minute, fluffy beast, I set my phone on the trunk of my car. Bidding my friendly neighbor good night, I was on my way!--I just needed my phone. Not finding it in my purse, or in my pocket, or in the center console, I trekked back into the house assuming it was on the kitchen table. Or not. Maybe on the nightstand. Or not. Bathroom by the flatiron (which was unplugged.) Nope. Wracking my brain, I remembered I had stopped by my parent's house. I ran back out to my car, hopped in, and tried to obey speed limits, all the while thinking of how late I'd be for the girls' get together. There's a schedule to follow. And at that moment, I was way off schedule.
It was a Monday and I had rushed home after work to go visit two of my good friends. It was still light outside, though with the changing of the seasons, darkness was falling faster and the air had a foreboding coolness to it. Hurrying to be on my way, I ran out to my car and saw my neighbor with his dog. It was just after I moved into the new place and not wanting to be the rude new girl on townhouse row, I said hello and was thus pulled into a conversation that lasted longer than I was interested in talking. The dog, who apparently likes nobody, is a big fan of mine and continued to stand close to me even after I was done petting it. The point? Somewhere in my exchange with this minute, fluffy beast, I set my phone on the trunk of my car. Bidding my friendly neighbor good night, I was on my way!--I just needed my phone. Not finding it in my purse, or in my pocket, or in the center console, I trekked back into the house assuming it was on the kitchen table. Or not. Maybe on the nightstand. Or not. Bathroom by the flatiron (which was unplugged.) Nope. Wracking my brain, I remembered I had stopped by my parent's house. I ran back out to my car, hopped in, and tried to obey speed limits, all the while thinking of how late I'd be for the girls' get together. There's a schedule to follow. And at that moment, I was way off schedule.
Stopping by my parents', my mom asked me what I was doing there--didn't I have some place to be? Why yes, that is correct. Retracing my steps, and still finding no phone, I resolved I'd have to return to my place and look again. Or maybe just forget it. I mean, good heavens, we existed without cell phones for millenia! I remember making it from Point A to Point B and back again as a kid--all without a cell phone!
Slamming my car door harder than I needed to out of sheer frustration, I smiled wryly at my mother and started the car. She smiled back with that patient mother's smile and turned to look out into the street. In that moment, she caught sight of my phone. Her expression dropped and she held up her hand for me to wait, pacing to the back of my car, returning with my cell phone.
Oh. My. Goodness.
The phone had clung to my car for dear life, lodging itself against the sporty fin on my trunk.
Whoa there, little buddy.
Close call. (Get it?--I know, I know. Booooooo!)
Check your pockets. Do you know where your phone is tonight?
Slamming my car door harder than I needed to out of sheer frustration, I smiled wryly at my mother and started the car. She smiled back with that patient mother's smile and turned to look out into the street. In that moment, she caught sight of my phone. Her expression dropped and she held up her hand for me to wait, pacing to the back of my car, returning with my cell phone.
Oh. My. Goodness.
The phone had clung to my car for dear life, lodging itself against the sporty fin on my trunk.
Whoa there, little buddy.
Close call. (Get it?--I know, I know. Booooooo!)
Check your pockets. Do you know where your phone is tonight?
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