Imprisoned Without a Cell To Speak Of

"Correct, but we can suspend your plan until you find your phone or your husband buys you a new one. What do you think?"

I thought it was time to go next door for a rejuvenating Starbucks.

The second time, I brought in an old cellphone, ignored the greeters and typed in my problem. Then I sat down on the floor in the middle of the store with my Diet Coke and a book.

"What are you doing?" the greeter asked.

"Waiting for the person who will come out and help me make this phone work so I can go back to having a cellphone."

The greeter said they preferred that I wait standing up.

"But then I can't read, and the last time I was here, it was 40 minutes. That's too much time to just stand around." I opened my book, took a sip of Diet Coke and signaled that the conversation was over.

The book was a bit dry, so I opened my purse and proceeded to put on base, eye shadow, lipstick and mascara. I blotted my lips and then brushed and redid my hair.

The manager type showed up within seconds of the eye shadow, but I finished my face before getting up to discuss the matter of the phone.

I told him about the lost phone and that I needed to activate the old one so I could go back to making calls as needed. I presented the old phone. It was gray and it was dull as could be, but it had been reliable and it was hard to lose.

He eyed it with distaste and let me know it was not compatible with the company's equipment and program.

I reminded him it was an old phone from that very same company.