Did you ever lose, or misplace your cell phone?
It’s happened to me countless times. If I’m lucky, I left the phone on – something I don’t always do – and I was able to call the cell from my landline, listen carefully for the ringing, and find it. But, if the cell phone is off, I’m out of luck.
That happened yesterday. I had gone to Clifton Forge, visited the doctor, stopped for a couple of homemade rolls at Luca’s, gotten gas, and headed home. I wasn’t home long before I realized my cell phone was not in my pocket. I know that because I checked every pocket of everything I was wearing. I rifled through my purse, finally dumping it out and rummaging, but, no cell phone. Where could it be?
I called the cell, and it went directly to voice mail. The phone was off.
I called the doctor’s office. I left a rather desperate message. I prepared myself to have to drive back to Clifton Forge to collect it. But, no one called to say they’d found it.
I went outside and checked the console of my car. Sometimes I park the cell phone there. Nope.
I came inside and pondered while I tried to concentrate on the book I was reading. Where could that dang phone be?
It took about an hour or two before I remembered hearing a small thump while I was driving to the doctor’s office. So: Back outside. I lifted up the entire console, and there it was, hiding in a crevice under the seat. Hooray!
The funniest story about losing my phone came a couple years ago. I had gone to The Homestead to meet old friends staying there. I had the phone in my pocket. Then, my sister and I went to Michel Café for dinner (do we miss Michel’s? Yes!).
The next morning, I realized the phone was missing. I called around, to no avail. Where could that phone be? I kept calling the cell number. I knew the phone had been on. Surely, someone would hear it ringing, pick it up, and I could simply go get it. Nothing.
Finally, I called the front desk at the hotel. Had someone by chance found a cell phone in the Jefferson? The fellow didn’t know at first. I told him I’d been repeatedly calling the phone, and suddenly, he had a “Eureka!” moment.
“So, that’s what that is!” he cried. “I think we have your phone.”
Turns out, he had been wondering what that annoying, constant ringing had been. It seemed to be coming from inside the safe. But, he could not open the safe.
He found someone who could, and – voila! – there was my cell phone! Again, it had fallen out of my pocket, and I hadn’t noticed.
I have made a new promise to myself: When I go out, I turn on my cell phone. It’s oh, so much easier for me, or someone – anyone – to find it that way.
Life … you gotta love it!
