Phony Story

At eight o'clock this morning, my husband, Charles, says to me, we need to be out the door by eight thirty if we're going to make it to Brentwood by nine thirty. Which is true enough, except we needed to be at the dentist for a fun filled family outing by nine. So in roughly ten minutes, we got ourselves, a ten month old, and four year old ready and in the car. I shoved some Cheerio's in a baggie, along with a banana, and called it breakfast for the four year old. I believe we even took out the dog, and I left the house wearing a passable amount of make-up. But, alas, no coffee.

We made it, and in time. A trip to the dentist is mundane, surely, but the only thing worse than going to the dentist, is not being able to go to the dentist.
So, at eleven this morning, I found myself on a street corner in Brentwood, uncaffeinated, with the baby in the stroller, waiting for my husband to bring the car around. What do you do when you're standing around doing nothing? Text! Well, me too.

So, I start texting my friend Dee. But by then C has pulled up and I know I can't just stand there and text while he waits for me to get the car seat back in the car, and the stroller in the trunk, because that would make me an a**hole, so in haste, I send the message and toss the phone in my purse, which doesn't close because I'm too lazy to live without it for a week to get the zipper repaired. So. I HAVE to have some coffee, and we drive to a Coffee Bean about six blocks away. The four year old has to pee, so I get out of the car with her, and as I'm running away I say to the husband, 'Text me with your order!'. After the potty break, I start digging around for my phone. Where IS it? Hm. I get my order (large iced coffee no room for cream and a honey bran muffin) and the big girl's (a small no-caffeine chocolate iced blended with whipped cream, a vanilla yogurt and a chocolate chip muffin.) I mean, let's face it. A lost phone is one thing, but I wasn't going to go without my coffee. I'm not sure what would happen to me if I went past noon without it.

I digress. My phone. I get back to the car and tell C that my phone is gone, so I didn't get his texted order. We look for it on the floor of the car. He calls me. Silence. Did you leave it in the dentist's office. No, I was texting on the street corner. Definitely had it. Is it in the trunk? NO. He calls me again. Silence.
I think I know where it is.
Where?
I'm just hoping some do-gooder hasn't picked up my abandoned phone, searching my contact list for my ICE number. I just want to find it, and bring 'er back on home.
Drive back to where you picked me up. Around the corner, down the street, around two more corners...
Stop! I see it.
What? Where?
There.

I hop out of the car. There is it, still open, the back of the phone two feet away, laying in the street just six inches from the curb. I pop the back on, close it, open it, see it's been run over and cracked on the cover.
There's a text. Which I can read!
"S. caramel ice blnded n jalapeno cheese croissant"
So, we go back to Coffee Bean (which was oddly quiet for daytime L.A. Do you have this where you live? No one has a job here, so people crowd coffee shops to smoke outside and type away on their laptops), and I get C's order.

I'm due for a new phone this month anyway, but the thing works. It creaks a bit when you open it, and there is that crack across the front plexiglass. But, I mean, I can still text, and isn't that what really matters?