When we were walking down to check on the hobo hut yesterday, Darin said, “hey, maybe we’ll find your phone,” and I said I hope not, because finding your phone after going through all the trouble of getting a new one is like getting remarried after all the trouble of getting divorced. (I actually have no idea if that analogy works.)
But there it was -- glistening with water, smiling, and still (remarkably) turned on with (even more remarkably) full battery. It was hidden in about the most obvious place ever, a foot away from the entrance of the hobo hut, and about three feet away from where I realized I had lost it. Since the hobo hut seems to have turned into a place for hobos to sleep at night and college students to visit by day, I have no idea how the phone could have possibly stayed there for seven days without getting picked up or stepped on. My roommate Allyson thinks that the hobo must have charged the battery for me at some point during the week. I have trouble disagreeing with her. If someone wasn’t taking care of it, I can’t imagine how it could have survived a week of snow, freezing temperatures, and other people being down there. What I am certain of is that fate and hobos work in mysterious ways and that we should be kind to both of them. Last week I thought losing my cell phone was the worst thing that could have happened, but this week I’m weirdly glad that it did.
3 comments:
Your cell phone woes were quite entertaining for me. (of course now that its found) It's funny how things work out sometimes!
But didn't you buy a new cell phone? What are you gonna do with that?
to RJ: I'm using my mom's old cell phone, but I'm going to switch it back to my other one over spring break.
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