Hell of a Guy

Cell Phone Lost…


I think my Blackberry may have taken a flight out of Little Rock without me.  It just disappeared: I had it one minute and the next it was gone.  Somewhere in this airport between the Starbucks coffee area, the Southwest counter, the security line and this bar, the damn thing has walked off.

I can’t really blame it for running away.  It has been abused, misused, dropped, stepped on and down right mistreated.  I suppose my dislike for all things cellular finally got to it.  Now I feel badly, even though I so totally dislike the thing, I do need it.

When I dial the number it goes immediately to voicemail.  I think it may be on a plane with a cell phone abuser, a devious bastard who picked up my phone when I turned my head, or I left it somewhere…but I cannot imagine doing that…again.  It has been abducted.

Oh well!  I suppose all I can do is hope it is traveling somewhere without me and is happy to be free.  Maybe I will get a ransom note and can rescue the phone with a few dollars paid to some despicable character.  Perhaps it is in the possession of some poor schmuck who just made an error in judgment.  Only God knows for sure.

And that is all I have to say about that…

PS:  I have now been at the Little Rock airport for nearly four hours.  Each time I call my cell phone number it goes right to voicemail.  This is not a good sign.  I have managed to hang around the bar area with hope it will show up, which simply stated means I haven’t left the bar area,  but I have managed to scoff down four 16oz brewskis.  At this point I don’t give a shit where or what happened to the stupid phone, but I miss it.  Go figure?

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