The Bane Of The Cell Phone

If you only listened to hot Welsh actresses, you might be convinced that mobile phones are a good thing. But then you'd be wrong. They can be the source of tremendous anxiety. I entreat you to attend the tale of mobile technology gone awry...

Last night I needed to call the boy because I'd told him to meet me at my apartment at 8:00. But I realized I wasn't going to get there on time (not because I was running late or anything; I was drinking heavily at a bar and didn't want to stop). However, I'd left my cell phone at home. Now I've been seeing him for nine months. I must call him at least four or five times a week. But have I ever learned his phone number? No. I just press speed dial. So I tried to call him from a friend's phone, trying to pull his number from memory because I've seen it a bunch of times. But alas, it was all for naught. Every combination of numbers I tried was wrong. So I figured, hey, I'll call another one of my friends because someone has to have his number. But could I remember anyone else's number? Ha! The only numbers I could think of were my parents' and Pizza Park. This was not good.

But wait! I may have forgotten my cell phone but I remembered my PDA! So I scan through the address book. Is there anyone in there even remotely connected to my life? No. And why? Because everyone who is important is in my cell phone! My dermatologist? Yeah, she was in my Palm. Some guy I met at a conference (I think) last year? Uh-huh. My boss's parents' phone number in Denmark? Yeah, that one was there too. Anyone who might have the phone number I need? Nope.

I managed to get a hold of Christy who gave me Tim's number who I interrupted at work in the middle of an important project (who told me he would text it to me as soon as he could and to which I kindly had to explain to him that if I had had my phone and was able to receive a text message I wouldn't have needed to call Tim in the first place (he's British so he's not really "on the ball" all the time)) so I could get a hold of the boy and tell him I was too drunk to meet him. By the time I'd finished I was sober and pretty much ready to leave the bar.

Now if I weren't capable of programming 500 numbers into my cell phone maybe I would have memorized this fairly important phone number...