Give Me Back My Phone!

Part II of previous entry:

While in the shuttle, walking to our seats at the Bowl, and thereafter, I would periodically fish around my handbag, then the shoulder bag it was sitting in, grasping for any object that remotely felt like my cell phone. I was sure I had brought my phone with me.

Upon returning home, I poured all contents of both bags onto my bedroom floor... No Phone! How could this be??? Wait a minute. Retrieving seating arrangements from mental compartment: Johnathan, me, my bags, strange man stuffing face with greasy popcorn and guzzling beer. Hmmm. He left his seat mid performance and NEVER CAME BACK! Dun Dun Dun! Could it be that I was robbed?! My heart began to pound as I thought of all the potential lost phone numbers and the inconvenience of procuring a new phone!

I'm just sure I had it in my purse! (You know how the mind begins to fog in moments of anxiety?) Maybe I was completely off. Maybe my phone was somewhere in the house. I ran to the kitchen phone, dialed my number, and then proceeded to listen VERY carefully for the whispered buzz it would emit upon connection. Nothing! But the phone was ringing. My voice mail clicked on, but where was my pre-recorded message?? Simultaneously, the caller ID flashed my phone number. How strange! *BEEP* I began leaving a message for the perpetrator holding my phone captive! (My voice was a raspy desperate whisper):

"Hello. You have my phone. Give me back my phone. I need my phone. Give it back! Good Byyyyyyyyyyyyyye...."

I hung up. The number was still flashing on the caller ID. I read it one last time...562...805...wait a minute! That's not my number! I'd switched two of the numbers around!

Some poor unsuspecting person woke up that morning, saw they missed a call at 1:50 a.m., then listened as some creepy whispering weirdo was going on about their phone; a non-stolen stolen phone!!!