By Dick Wolfsie
Hi! Dick Wolfsie’s cellphone, here.
My earlier model wrote a column about 10 years ago to tell you how tough of a job this is. Things have gotten no better since then.
He misplaced me 43 times in the past 18 months. Of course, I was never really lost. I knew exactly where I was, but have you ever tried to get this guy’s attention?
What a week I’ve had. On Sunday, we were at the Boat, Sport and Travel Show where Dick was doing a daily TV segment. First, I was in his back pocket, then he tossed me onto the hood of an RV.
Then he shoved me under his coat on a bench. He started looking all over for me. He borrowed someone else’s phone to call me. I was totally charged up for this. Success!
So, we headed home. He threw me in his car and I fell between the seats. He started looking for me while driving. This is more dangerous than texting. He found me. He also found his lost AARP card and a $100 expired Amazon gift card.
Monday morning, he took a shower, and as he was drying off he put me in the pocket of his bathrobe. He walked around the house while he was waiting for a call that never came. There was no way he was going to remember where I was once he hung up the robe. I knew I was gonna spend the entire night in the bathroom.
Tuesday, 8 a.m., he started looking for me. He checked every dresser drawer, under the bed, even the freezer (where he once left me for three days). He called me from his wife’s phone but my battery was dead again. I called up every ounce of energy. I even tried to vibrate a little. No luck.
Wednesday, Dick finally found me in his robe when he showered again, but then he threw me in his briefcase and I landed in one of those divider pockets. This meant big trouble. Sure enough, I was lost again. Since there is no landline phone in the house, there was no way to call himself. Didn’t matter: I was on silent mode, anyway.
By Saturday, he was desperate. Dick headed to the cellphone store to buy a replacement. His contract was almost expired, so they made him a deal on a sexy new model with a lot of extra bells and whistles. He fell for it. Men! The salesperson destroyed me digitally through the store’s computer. I was cellular non grata.
Dick got back in the car and headed home. Suddenly, he had a flash of insight. He pulled over, grabbed the briefcase, turned it upside down and shook it back and forth. I managed to fall through the broken zipper and tumbled to the floor. I was OK, but being without a charge for three days, I was spent.
Sunday: We headed back to the phone store. He told the clerk he didn’t want his new phone. He wanted his old friend back. I was touched. My circuits welled up.
Last night, Dick stuck me in his sweat pants pocket while he was exercising in the basement. I’m now in the bottom of the laundry basket. Don’t expect to reach Dick any time soon. He only does the laundry once a week.
Television personality Dick Wolfsie writes this weekly column for the Daily Journal. Send comments to firstname.lastname@example.org.