Lost and found
Over the weekend, we had a bit of drama that only now we can look back on and laugh about. Maybe only just a small little chuckle though. It's a long story, so pop some popcorn and grab a beverage. I'll wait.

On Saturday I was busy at the office working on some stuff while Nick was at a park playing football with friends. By the time I picked him up, I was running kind of late for a hair appointment (very important stuff) and we had to hustle back to make my appointment on time. We were so late that he just had to drop me off at my appointment on the way home and come back for me when I was done. I told Nick I'd call him from my cell phone when I was getting close to done, but I didn't want to interrupt the hair cutting process and would probably just let the phone ring a few times and then he would know to head on over.

I did just that, too. I called very inconspicuously and thought I let it ring a few times, although I really wasn't exactly for sure. Mere minutes later when the stylist was all done, I called again, this time so that I could talk to Nick and make sure he really did hear his phone ring. But I got no answer. I called about three more times, just in case he was in the shower or outside or somehow away from his phone. By the way, he's NEVER away from his phone. He loves this thing as if it were a small child that lives in his pocket.

At this point I wasn't really all that worried though, so I walked across the parking lot to the best store on the face of the earth because I think we all know we could spend days in there if we really had to. I left him a voice mail message on my way across the lot, letting him know I'd be killing time in Target until he got back to his phone and left to come get me. I wandered the aisles, stopping to call him every once in a while and hoping he'd hear his phone ring.

This went on for about 30 minutes. At first I was a little mad, because I felt he should know to keep his phone close by expecting my call at any minute. Is it really that much to ask to keep the thing in your pocket? After about 30 minutes or so though, I began to get really worried. Surely the house must have been broken into and he was shot, or else on his way home from dropping me off he had gotten carjacked. Or he had some sort of freak heart attack after playing too much football. Or one of the people on the losing football team got disgruntled and followed us home for retaliation.

I also thought perhaps he had driven over to his parents' house to hang out for a bit before coming to pick me up. Cell service there is usually pretty sketchy, so I thought I'd better try to call there and see if they'd seen him. Of course I didn't have that number saved in my phone though, so I called his sister to get his parents' number. Then I called his parents' house, then tried him a few more times. Nothing.

After about 45 minutes, I got really nervous and called his sister again to see if she'd come rescue me from Target. I was so worried she'd drop me off at home and I'd find some sort of horrible scene inside the house. But right as she pulled up to save me, my phone rang and it was Nick calling from the salon, wondering where I was after waiting in the parking lot for me for an hour. (Side note: apparently this man is willing to wait a full hour before going inside to see what's going on. He has Patience of Steel.)

So turns out he left right after the very first call I made so inconspicuously. His cell phone was dead and charging at home. Oops.

It said that I called a total of 17 times, paged him once and left 2 voice mail messages. But hey, at least we're both alive and neither of us have been abducted or murdered or held hostage by disgruntled football players. And I think now in the future if I ever get lost, he'll know to find me wandering the aisles of Target because I just can't resist the vast amount red and white subliminal messaging, calling me in through its wide open automatic doors.


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