There are definitely pro’s and con’s to having your cell phone accidently call someone because you sat on it - you leaned into your purse, you pressed up against the pocket of your jacket or pants, or the random, I didn’t even touch it, but it just felt like calling someone.  At any rate, the bloody phone calls someone from your list of peeps and they get to hear your lame or not so lame conversation with whatever person you’re with.  It doesn’t much matter if it’s your buddy who gets called; who could give a rats ass about what you have to say to the dumb chick your conversing with at the soiree, but it can obviously create problems on who/what you are talking about, and who does bother to listen to the 3 ½ minutes voicemail message on their phone, anyway?  (More on that later).  I'm a Blackberry person. My Blackberry contains 3245 contacts, so why the “F” my phone only chooses to call my ex-boyfriend and my hairdresser, I’ll never quite know.  They certainly weren’t in my recent caller log, and they are not in the A’s, B’s or even C’s  which have a lot greater chance of getting accidently pressed. It’s just pure phone irrationality.

The other day I got a text from an angry ex-business partner. Immediately following that text message, I got a call from her.  I waited a while to listen to it, because who’s ever in the mood to listen to someone rant about how much they hate you?  So the next day I checked, and it turns out it was merely a pocket dial.  She bumped her phone after she clearly was text messaging while driving, and all I heard was a long pause, static, and then a, “Bitch. She’s such a bitch!”, followed by more pause breaks.  To be honest, I was kind of charmed by the whole thing and was grateful she clearly felt defeated by me.  But this was a lucky occasion; it certainly could have gone in a different direction.  Like the drunken guy I had to drive home that turned into a pervert. He was trying to hit on me, I was trying to push him out of my car, and I accidently pressed my phone and it rang my mother.  I’m not going to bother to quote the exchange. It was humiliating and should be left in the past where it belongs.

The Golden rule is, lock it, lock it, lock it. It can save lives. Maybe even yours.  Or as my mother always said, if you have nothing nice to say then don’t say anything at all. Seeing as this is Los Angeles, I would go with the latter one.



camille solari © 2011


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