Cell Phone With Its Red Case

Well, it’s a steep learning curve for a young woman of the 1890s, but I do believe that Mrs. Crouch tried her best to master the mysteries of my cell phone.  There really is no other explanation.

It all began yesterday afternoon when I drove through the raindrops to pick up my neighbor Carol for our coffee date at Colleen’s Coffee Shop in Ocean Park.  I was a few minutes early so I took my cell phone from my jacket pocket and called her, telling her I was out front.  She quickly joined me and then, as Lewis and Clark said in their journals:”We proceeded on.”

There were about a gazillion cars at Colleen’s so we parked at the western end of the allotted space, right next to a pickup with a very diligent watch dog — barking, barking, barking.  We gave him due praise and then went on in to meet Colleen’s newest cashier and to enjoy our coffee and conversation.  It was lovely. as always.

Inside Colleen’s — The Perfect Gathering Place for Refreshment and Conversation

Back to Carol’s an hour and a half later and a short visit with Tucker to see his new Oysterville Cemetery Map.  (Bravo!)  Then home to do a little more getting ready for tomorrow’s house concert.  Then, for some reason (was I going to call Charlie for something?) I reached in my back pocket for my cell phone.  Not there.

For the next few minutes I looked in my purse, in my jacket pockets, in my car and… then again.  And maybe again.  No cell phone.  I drove over to Carol and Tucker’s: “Have you seen my….?”  The answer was no.  Carol called my number and had me go listen in the car… just in case. No phone ringing.

“Come on with me,” she said.  “We’re driving to Colleen’s” — which, by then we knew was closed.  When we arrived, I banged on the door; Carol searched the parking lot — to no avail.  No, Colleen hadn’t seen it.  She and I looked in the area that Carol and I had been sitting and we promised to call one another if it turned up.

On our way back to Carol’s place (and my car) we stopped at my house to try calling there.  But before Carol could even punch in the number she said, “Is that your phone?  On the chair?”

And there it was!  Right on one of the chairs I had been setting up for the House Concert tomorrow!  Carol said that my jaw actually dropped!  Talk about gobsmacked!  And just what was Mrs. C. doing anyway?  Trying to reserve a seat?

I don’t know which emotion took precedence — relief or incredulity!   I phoned Colleen to call off the search and then went with Carol to pick up my car — clutching my cell phone and wondering how in the world Mrs. C. managed to get that close to modern-day contact.  But then, truth to tell, I wonder that about all of us nearly every day!