Opinion: A difficult cellmate


Hi! This is Dick Wolfsie’s newest cellphone. The old phone talked to you many years ago, but since I have taken over the job, I wanted to update everyone on how things are going.

He has misplaced me 43 times in the past 18 months. Of course, I was never really lost. I knew exactly where I was (I have GPS).

This past week has been something. On Sunday, I was at a movie with Dick and his lovely wife. First, I was in his back pocket, then he placed me in the little cupholder next to his seat. Then he walked out of the movie without me, but he came back into the empty theater and called me from Mary Ellen’s phone. Success! By the way, I loved the movie.

Before we headed home, he tossed me into the car, and I fell between the seats. He started looking for me while driving. This is more dangerous than texting. He found me — and also his lost AARP card and a $100 Blockbuster gift card.

Monday morning, after he showered, he put me in the pocket of his bathrobe, since he was waiting for a call. I knew where I was going to spend the entire night. In the bathroom.

Tuesday morning, he started looking for me. He checked every dresser drawer, under the bed, and even the freezer (where he once left me for three days). He called me from his landline but my battery was dead from having spent the night in the bathroom. I tried to muster every ounce of energy. I even tried to vibrate a little. No luck.

Wednesday, Dick finally found me in his robe pocket when he showered again, but later he threw me in his briefcase on the way to a speech he was giving. I landed in a divider compartment. I was well hidden for days and he couldn’t find me.

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. It looked like the end of me. I was going to be cellular non grata.

When Dick got back to the car, he had a flash of insight. He grabbed the briefcase, turned it upside down and shook it. I tumbled onto the driver’s seat. I was OK, but I had no charge. I was spent.

Sunday, we headed back to the phone store to return the new phone. He had found me and wanted me back. I was touched. My circuits welled up.

Last night, Dick stuck me in his sweatpants pocket while he was exercising in the basement. I’m now in the bottom of the laundry basket. Don’t expect to reach Dick anytime soon. He only does the laundry once a week.