We’ve all had the experience of being “butt-dialed,” a euphemism for your pocket-held cell phone accidentally pressing someone else’s number. My granddaughter, Shanna, has unknowingly called me from parties at 2 a.m. I’ve enjoyed listening in on many of her celebrations and sometimes even joined in the fun when being discovered on her phone.
My most recent cell phone fiasco involves a young woman who, many years ago, was my hairdresser. Nadina and I became good friends and shared many happy times together.
As fate would have it she and I lost contact after I moved to Putnam and it was 25 years before we met again. Now the owner of a spa, Epidavros, she lives in Somers not far from my daughter Ilene and her family. When I moved to Somers we re-established our relationship and I was thrilled to see how well she had conducted her life.
Nadina does me the great favor of cutting my hair in my own home. She brings her youngest daughter with her and we have grand fun talking over old times. The teenager reminds me of her mother as a young girl, bright, inquisitive, always wanting to learn.
Well, my hair needs shaping so I left a message on her answering machine. When I didn’t hear from her, I tried again and this time she answered. Although it was early evening she sounded groggy so I apologized, thinking I had interrupted her nap, but because cell phones are always with us she wasn’t napping at all, she had been fast asleep in Rome Italy!
Had I been younger I would have felt terribly embarrassed, but as a seasoned citizen, it just struck me as one of the perils of our digital era. I couldn’t help but laugh at my “phone”-pas.
We certainly do live in a small world today and the only thing I could think of was to ask her to bring me something blessed by the pope, and call me when she returned.
Here’s to the 21st century! The end of anonymity and, unless you shut your phone off, the end of a peaceful night’s sleep in Rome.
Contact Adrienne at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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