i’ve had all kinds of cell phones. black. blue. silver. pink. in different shapes, sizes and dimensions. with hi-tech features that half the time I don’t even use or sadly, can’t figure out; with countless access and options far greater and bigger each and everytime I get a new one.
ringtones. yeah, those. chimes high. chimes low. chord high. chord low. claps. ding. drums. fanfare. manilow’s copacobana (sigh!) ringtone. beyonce’s irreplaceable (sigh! sigh!) stefani’s wind it up. akon’s smack that! (“smack that all on the floor, smack that give me some more, smack that till you get sore, smack that oh -ohh…. loveeeeee it! i went for the beat. really! i didn’t know it said all that! i swear!)
sony. motorola. samsung. at&t. cingular. sprint. nextel. been there. done that. done it all.
so why is it that when circumstances call for some cell phone action, nothing gives?
why is it that everytime somebody tries to call me, it is as if my cell phone knows someone is calling and immediately it gets discharged; or it is being recharged; or it is hiding somewhere in an unreachable nook inside my purse; or it was left behind inside the car; on mute; on vibrate; on volume low; turned off; inside the other room on volume low; left behind at home; lost somewhere around the house and by now discharged.
Rey thinks I purposely ignore all of his calls; my well-meaning children have asked if I really need a phone since I never pick up; my two sisters panic every time and start calling up each other to ask if I’ve checked myself in for another medical procedure (Ha!); my friends call Rey so he can call me (and hopefully I hear the ring) to tell me so and so friend had just called and could I call her back; my ILs also call Rey to tell me they’ll be calling the land line because they tried calling my cell and I didn’t pick up.
last week I did what every cell phone abiding citizen would do. I recharged my cell phone. I had the volume up. I placed it down where I can see it all the time. I held on to it as if it was my last breath.
10 minutes. half hour. 2 hours. 4 hours. I’m heeere. Foofee is heeere. Foofee and I are heeere. Right heeere. No calls. No rings. No half rings. No mis-dialed calls, not even one.
Foofee had to go. Nature calls. As soon as we got to the park, I realized I left my cell phone behind. I just had a feeling it was ringing right then.
“This call may be recorded or monitored for quality and training purposes. If you don’t wish this call to be monitored or recorded, then please let the answering machine know when you leave your message.” ~ unknown
