Monday, May 15, 2006

Cell Phones I've Loved and Lost

Sitting in the Maple Leaf Lounge at Pearson this afternoon when suddenly the blood runs cold.
Where's the Crackhoberry? On the kitchen table.. I'm pretty sure. I hope.

Grr..

I've asked repeatedly for someone to invent cell phone woolly strings like Grandma used to make for our mittens when we were little. Tie the mittens together with a long string that you'd pull up through the sleeves of your coat so they'd never go astray. I swear to God, there's a market opportunity here for the taking.

Sheena is not unknown to the process of missing cell phones. I remember once when we changed carriers so I got a new phone number which I promptly and responsibly then communicated to colleagues, friends and associates. My inbox went over its limits with hardy-har-har attempts at humour. "So.. what'd ya do this time.. nudge nudge wink wink".

Cell Phone #1.
Suspected Burnt in an Industrial Accident. Raided a hotel mini bar after the lounge shut down. Played hoops with balled-up ripped pages of "Toronto Life" magazine in the light fixture until something started smelling funny. Phone unseen the next day.

Cell Phone #2.
Crushed Under the Wheels of a NYC Taxi Cab. Dinner and dancing out somewhere in the 70s in Manhattan. Remember some rube saying at the beginning of dinner that "this one's on him". Pitchers of cosmos later, cell phone is gone.

Cell Phone #3.
Drowned in New Jersey. Game 7 of the World Series couple of years ago. Bar-hopping on the streets of Princeton. Compadres are all from Boston. Red Sox win for the first time since man invented fire. Running to the "good bar" for the ninth inning with full beers in pockets. After seeing buddy soak his leather jacket with the running backspash, put MY beer in my purse. Forget about it. Next day tell the cell phone looker-after that my phone doesn't work because I dropped it. Leave out the part about dropping it into my purse which is full of beer.

Cell Phone #4.
Plain Old Boring Lost it. Forgot it in a taxi cab in Denver.

Cell Phone #5.
Robbed at Gunpoint in Las Vegas and Lose All of My Worldly Possessions Rather than Risk a Hot Metal Cap in My Ass. 'Nuff said.

7 Comments:

At 8:57 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I've heard you make reference to the Vegas robbery before-I'd be curious to know some of the details. What part of town, time of day/night etc?

I go down there twice a year & have never come close to even feeling threatened.

 
At 9:43 PM, Blogger Sheena said...

Well clearly you're just not trying hard enough, anonymous.

 
At 11:15 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Cmon let's have the details, so I can have a "but for the grace of God go i..." moment

 
At 2:57 AM, Blogger ninepounddictator said...

I once had a cab driver who told me he found 15 cell phones a night in the back of his cab from passengers who lost them....he said he kept them all at his home in a box.

I hate my new cell. A rzr. Everybody has it now and the other day our interior designer was over and she took mine and I took hers. Disaster.

 
At 7:46 AM, Blogger Sheena said...

Well now, see that's what you get for buying things that are advertised on bathroom stall walls.

 
At 2:38 PM, Blogger Fred said...

You should get one of those cell phones from the early 1990's, you know, the kind that weights 3 pounds and looks like a military walkie-talkie. You can use it as a bludgeoning tool, too.

 
At 4:53 PM, Blogger MommyWithAttitude said...

Yikes, robbed at gunpoint? Your life is worth losing a cell phone over. How horrifying.

 

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