Cell Phone Walkin'

I lost my cell phone.  I definitely lost my cell phone.  I experienced one of those awful moments when you reach for something important and it simply isn't there.  I quickly retraced my steps from Last Known Location up until the present time with no luck. 

It's funny how when I make a mistake I feel bad about myself.  I get depressed and agitated.  It's like no one has ever made a mistake before.  When I do something right, however, which is much of the time, the glow vanishes instantly.  When I make a mistake, the funk seizes me and holds on.  Fortunately, it no longer holds on like grim death; more like cheerful death or light-hearted death.  I'm glad death's humor is much improved but it's still death.  It's The Grim Reaper dressed in a hooded garment with a brightly ornamental cinching belt, chartreuse or some other pastel, if chartreuse is indeed in the pastel family.  He doesn't carry that large, sharpened scythe anymore, preferring a much more dignified concealed pistol of some sort.  He's bad but he isn't over the top about it.  You know you're going to die but there's not the overwhelming sense of dread that comes with seeing The Grim Reaper in full regalia.

My friend Willie took me to lunch that day, after a meeting in a clubhouse.  Willie paid for lunch.  I thought he was being nice but now I think he was feeling guilty because he STOLE my cellphone and sold it on the street to pay for his increasingly large Starbucks habit. 

Yeah, that's what happened.  It was Willie.