Oh where, oh where has my little dog gone?
Oh where, oh where can he be?
That famous nursery rhyme’s sing-songing through my mind. Not, fortunately, because a small dog has gone missing.
Rather my cell phone.
And if ever you’ve had your phone go missing, you’ll sympathize. It’s a pain in the you-know-where.
Fortunately I can narrow it down to between a spot in the park where I watched the Green Bay Packers whomp the Denver Broncos! After four games, I’m sooooo done with the Broncos!! But that’s another post.
The chance of the phone there is slim as I recall tidily slipping it with charger into a zippered backpack pocket before leaving.
Which leaves only one place: the back room of the bakery.
When I get home around 9 on a night wetting by brief showers and recognize it’s missing, I hop back into the car and drive across Denver and with torch scan the watered picnic site like a thief scouring for diamonds. it was missing,
A passerby obliges my request to dial my number. Silence. No flashing light.
Though I’d like to, I can’t go to work to check. The bakery’s closed. And even were the midnight baker there, s/he wouldn’t and couldn’t let me in.
Back home I use a roommate’s phone to repeatedly call mine. I leave an instructive message should anyone find it.
It majorily sucks to be without phone.
Truth told, it’s not long for this world. It’s an old used flip phone I bought in Tacoma, what, a year or more ago.
The battery holds a charge for maybe 45 minutes.
And the connector on the charger is loose, semi-broken and fairly worthless.
Replacing the phone and charger has been a luxury I can’t afford.
On the slim chance someone found it, after using it, s/he’ll toss it right back down. It’s pretty much crap. It goes ring ring ring! and little more.
I’ve got the important contacts on a backup hard copy so I’m covered there.
the slim chance someone find its, s/he’ll use it and toss it right back down. It’s pretty much crap. Because I’m on the bare-bones basic plan, it goes ring! ring! ring! and no more.
I’ve got the important contacts on a back-up hard copy for this purpose so I’m covered there.
Being without a phone is problematic. I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment. I’m trying to line up a second part-time joob this week. In fact I’m supposed to talk with someone about one today.
I’m also looking for new digs — to be secured also hopefully this week. Am supposed to talk with one fella to arrange a meeting. Uhhhh, maybe not today.
I’ll stop by work hours early to poke around and if it’s not there, then to the store with used cell phones I go.
I’ll deactivate the account and take this as an opportunity to switch my number from the former state to a local one.
I’d LOOOOOOOOVE it if I could switch to a Smart phone. Man, I covet those! I drool every time someone nonchalantly whips one out and bing! bing! bing! shares a photo or piece of music or some helpful directions or piece of information off the Net.
I would LOVE to be able to do that! And to be liberated from hauling the laptop around pretty much everywhere I go because sometime during the day I need to hop online or check an email.
I just can’t afford it.
I’m stuck in the ’80s. And my phone, wherever it be and bless its broken charger and low battery life belongs in that same place where disco balls go.
Or the Smithsonian.