Phone Karma... or not.

OK, I just had a great note, from someone VERY astute on the last entry to the effect of..

"You lost your cell phone? Phone Karma, perhaps?"

(that would be because I LIED to telemarketers all day Tuesday)

And I thought "Good grief! She's RIGHT!"

But just to be safe, before I called Cingular (or AT&T, or whoever owns them now), I would retrace my steps and call the eleventy-three places that I visited yesterday.

Hello, Michaels, did you find a cell phone?
Let's see. Can we put you on hold for a few hours? Great! You still there?.... nope. No cell phones here. Sorry.

Hello, Kmart? Did you find a cell phone in your store?
Let me transfer you, no! Put you on hold! No! Send you to the head office. And back again! And... NO! We don't have any phones in the Lost and Found.

Hello, Safeway? Any cell phones in your lost and found?
Here, listen to some musak... sorry, no cell phones here. Good luck!

Hello Chevron self-serve (and car wash) Any phones turned in to your lost and found yesterday?
Nope. So sorry. So very very sorry. Such bad luck for you.

Hello, Elementary school, I think I might have left my cell phone there yesterday when I was working in the office and the library and the classroom. Anybody turn one in to the office?
Let me look... sorry, Kemma, I don't see one. But you better call your provider. Do you know once my brother lost his phone, and he called and Cingular's customer service phones were out of order, and when he finally found his phone, someone had used it to call MEXICO. FOR TWO HOURS! But he was lucky, because Cingular admitted that their phones had been down, so my brother couldn't cancel his phone right away, so they refunded his money, but if you don't phone... hold on, I've got a call on the other line...

Yes. I think it's the whole pay back for lying on the phone...

Hello butt? Meet teeth of my folly.

So I'm rooting around on my desk, because SOMEWHERE is an old Cingular bill, so I can find the customer service number. Ah, there it is. Let's just make sure that this is the bill for MY cell number... yup. Hey, just for kicks, I'll call my phone one more time. Maybe I was just DEAF the other seventeen times I phoned it last night.

Ring....

Ring....

Ring....

"Hello?"

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!

I was caught off guard. I just gaped.

me: Hello?

Them: Hello?

Me: Hey! This is great. Who is this?

Them: Who is this? Who is calling?

Me: This is Kemma! Kemma Parker! (like they should KNOW!)

Them: Hello.

Me: No. I'm the owner of the phone you're holding. I lost it. And now it's found! I'm so happy! Who is this?

(and then I realize that this might be some drug-dealing thug who has taken ownership of my phone, and is only using it for nefarious purposes, and now knows the NAME OF THE OWNER, and I've just interrupted a big multi-thousand-dollar [because thugs around here are probably small-potato types, if they have to resort to using phones that they find on the ground] drug deal, and now I am a MARKED WOMAN. And so I suddenly break out into foul smelling armpit-squirting sweat)

Them: Oh great! This is Middle School. We were just going to phone your home phone that you've got listed on your address book. Shall we hold it for you, or do you want us to give it to your son?

Me: I'll be RIGHT THERE!!!!!!

Can you see me?

I'm doing a happy dance.

It looks suspiciously like the potty dance.

Actually, it *is* the potty dance.

I'll be right back.