Home from work. Find myself phoneless. Panic kicks in, narrowing the sidewalk for reason.
Not in the car, under the seat, down in the crevice.
Not in the trunk, but glad my "new" car has a light in the trunk.
Not in my purse. Dump everything out. Try again. Still not in my purse, or the car, or the trunk.
Would anyone still be at work? Would they check email before leaving?
That's the trouble with living alone with just a cellphone. No way to call myself!
Where did I go today? Rode in Janie's car. She lives way out in the country, and I won't see her for five days. Went to Fadi's for lunch, and sat in that goofy booth. Too tall cushion, too close to the pillar. Easy place for a phone to fall out, but be sure to get the cauliflower*.
Loaded stuff into the trunk--a big bag of pinecones. Phone on the street where I parked?
Not hyperventilating, but getting close. Go check the mail kiosk and near the recycling cart. It is NOT yet time for dumpster diving!
Did I flush it? Is it on vibrate? Is it out of juice? We're talking a disaster of Biblical proportions.
The last paranormal removal specialists at work received the email, and called my number. They wandered the library listening, listening.
How do I spell relief? G-H-O-S-T-B-U-S-T-E-R-S! Deep down behind a cushion in the back office a little blue phone was playing that song. The phone was found, and even brought to my condo.
I just wanna thank Egon, Ray, Venkman, and Zeddemore, plus Sharon and Pam. And since I can't figure out how to change it, my ringtone will probably remain the Ghostbusters theme song forever. And yes, I still miss those old card catalogs. Also the funny little Ghostbusters who lived in my house.
*Cauliflower--Stewed in its own juices with lemon juice and spices, then fried with zero trans fat oil.
© 2012 Nancy L. Ruder