Never Trust Me With Your Cellphone!

I’m not sure, at all, why I have a problem owning a cell phone. Middle school children do a fine and responsible job of it. I truly am a mature and responsible adult! Why can’t I? And yet, maybe it’s not me? Maybe, I’m just a victim of circumstance…let’s go with that.

For starters, maybe I need to get my phone off vibrate. My reasoning, it kind of annoys me when I hear people’s phones ringing all the time so I don’t want mine to be a bother to anyone else.

Or maybe, I shouldn’t leave it in my car for hours on end because it never fails that I will run into someone or someone will come home from work and say, “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day!” Oops! Yesterday, I was even accused in a 5^th such text from the same person, “What? Are you napping?” I DON’T NAP! I couldn’t if I tried. I suppose I should answer the home phone when it rings as well but I swear I didn’t hear it!

* We won’t go over the number of phones I have washed in the last five years because I do not accept responsibility if you haven’t emptied your pockets. However, I will take and keep all monies I find in the wash and use it for my morning coffee. Fair game. *

First of all, I have only owned one nice phone (a Blackberry), outright meaning it was purchased by me, for me. All other phones I’ve used, have either come out of the drawer for unwanted phones or were cheapies. I am totally cool with hand-me-downs. It takes a whole lot of pressure off me because something ALWAYS happens.

This is what a phone needs to do for me... call,  text and take a few pictures.

That’s it; pretty basic. The Blackberry was overkill for my purposes.

Blackberry #1 pretty and black and fell out of my pocket in my driveway. The SIM card was intact after it found itself under my wheel. Someone was smart enough to purchase insurance on it. ;-) So, along came…

Blackberry #2 was shiny maroon. This one was a tough cookie but water proved to be too much for it to handle. First, it was knocked into the sink and not by me. You know what works? Take it apart and submerge it in a sealed container filled with white rice. Presto! In four days it was working pretty well but the L, K, and a few other keys stuck. Also, the phone rattled when you shook it. Poor phone took a beating at a graduation party a few months later when my mom spilled a glass of wine on it. Well, forget about it then. It was truly toast.

Phone #3 was the cheapest phone the AT&T store had since my plan wasn’t up until January. Its only responsibilities were to call and text.

I only had it a month. While dining at a friend’s house, my friend, Elaine, kept insisting “just put your phone in my purse then you don’t have to worry about it.” So I did.

Traveling by boat that night, I dropped Elaine off at her pier on my way home. She’d had a bit of wine and as she got out of the boat she slipped and fell into the water. It was pitch black outside. I heard the splash. Guess what she had in her hand at the time? Her purse. What was in her purse? My phone. “Elaine, you have to go down and get your purse. Our phones!” It took her a few shuffles along the bottom of the lake and only one dive to retrieve the purse and phones. Pretty good for how dark it was that night.

Phone #4 was a keeper and lasted for six whole months until my plan came up in January.

Phone #5 a techie in the family swooped up my contract renewal and got a brand new iPhone 4S. I took the hand-me-down and all is good. However, this iPhone does way too much stuff! I don’t have the patience to figure it out so it’s wasted on me since all I do is call, text and take pictures.

When your bad behavior begins to affect others, you definitely have a problem.

Last night, I went out for a lovely dinner with great friends. They were so excited to show us pictures of their son’s recent bachelor party (it was the nice and proper kind.) They were a beautiful looking group of “20 somethings”, I might add. Can’t wait for the wedding!

Bob, whose iPhone housed those pictures, excused himself to go to the boys’ room but was gone for 20 minutes. Weird!

He came back to our table saying his phone was nowhere to be found. He had been all over the restaurant looking for it, back to his car, into his golf bag, in the bar, etc. He even called it but there was no answer.

Then it occurred to someone at the table and they all looked at me. Well, his phone looks just like mine (forgetting I didn’t bring mine out). I suppose you can’t hear it ringing from the bottom of a purse, right? Oops!!!

I guess no one should let me near THEIR phone either.