One of them

I’m not one of the cool kids, one of the “cell phone set”. You know the ones I’m talking about – you can reach them any day, any time…they look like they’re in a perpetual state of “making a deal”. They sleep with their cell next to their pillow. They don’t even have home phones. Yes, I have a cell phone, but I’m known for not answering it when it rings. Most of my voicemails start with “Do you ever answer your cell?” I rarely keep the ringer on, and on the off chance I DO hear it ring, it’s usually buried so far in my purse that I don’t find it in time anyway.

Last week we spent a day on my dad’s boat. My phone rang a lot. And I even answered it a few times. At one point, as I was picking it up I smirked at John and said “I’m becoming such a “phone person.” He rolled his eyes. Possibly in disbelief (it was only accessible because I was walking a friend’s dogs that night and the afternoon walker was supposed to tell me when they walked last) or possibly in disgust (John hates cell phones. He’s used exactly 11 minutes in the six months he’s had his phone).

On our way home that night, we were meeting my dad at some out the way, hard to find restaurant. After taking a wrong turn, we finally made it. As we were getting out of the car, my dad said he had tried to call my cell but nobody answered. (of course not – it was stuffed in the bottom of my backpack) John shook his head and said, “She tries to be a cell phone person, but she just can’t pull it off.”