You can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your mobile phone until it happens to you. At first there’s the sinking feeling that it’s not coming back, an anticipatory worry, building like the interference that interrupts a radio signal – pip-piP-pIP-PIP; then the silence, and a brief moment of liberation, when you can just about imagine a world without it; before the ringing sound of panic, blaring in your ear, like an inaudible melody of the names and numbers that you realise you’ve lost for good.
This happened to me yesterday, like some sort of comeuppance for actually engaging in any kind of physical exertion, on a golf course. I guess I swung too hard, and now, only a day later, I’m quickly realising what a handicap it is to be without my phone.
In that time I’ve been unable to cancel a meeting with a mate, respond to the outrageous advances of a lady friend and wish my big sister a Happy Birthday, leaving three people waiting, wondering and wanting to kill me, respectively. Worse still, sitting now on the train, I can’t tell the woman meeting me at the other end that I am more than one hour delayed.
I guess that’s two people wanting to kill me.
2 comments:
Hmm...your lady friend was wondering whether or not you'd fallen off the face of the earth. In fact she was so distressed she took all the cocaine she'd bought for you and woke up after a spectacular bender in Brazil. She is now quite happily living with a goat-herder called Juan and wearing paisely dresses and straw hats. Shame on you.
x x
sounds like this lady friend is a bit of a loser san. maybe losing the phone was a blessing.
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