I am a loser. I lose things. Small things, large things. It doesn’t matter. I can frequently be found asking people if they’ve seen my keys, my phone, my van, my mind.
I can keep track of most anything on my Palm. So maybe I should write down the location of all my important items at any given time in my PDA. Then I’d just have to find that and I’d have the map to unlock my own personal universe of misplaced somethings.
On really bad days, days when my massive diaper bag masquerading as a purse eats all that is dear to me, I dream of a magic long range clapper-finder that will respond when I clap and tell me where the desired item is hiding. I guess I’d need a different clap for each item or maybe a whistle, ala Captain Von Trapp.
My cell phone has the most amazing uber-long-range clapper-whistler-finder built right in. Each night and often several times a day, I just call my own phone and follow the ringer. I even occasionally do this when I KNOW it’s somewhere in the deep recesses of my purse but I still can’t find it. It lights up when it rings, you know, and I can hear it echoing up from beneath the many crayons, tampons and electronic devices.
Well, we found out last night that its finder range extends at least 15 miles from my house. This is the longest distance we’ve achieved in our testing to date and the results are very promising.
It was 11:00pm. I called my phone. Here, girl. Here, girl. Come to mama. I will charge you, little cell phone. Come heeerrrreeee. Souuuuueeeeeee! Not a sound did she make. I walked out in the garage. Nothing. I went from room to room. Nada.
Suddenly someone answered, “Hello?”
Me: I must have the wrong number.
Woman: Maybe not. Do you know whose cell phone this is?
Me: Maybe mine. Is it smallish? Cute? Wearing tight leather pants with a see-through mid-section?
Woman: Yeah. You dropped it at Costco. It’s in the lost and found.
Me: Okay thanks.
Woman: It’s the Costco in —town.
Me: Thanks [Dude. How many Costco’s do you think I go to in a day?]
Although she practically called me a compulsive bulk shopper to my face…over the phone, I forgave her in my gratitude that Costco has someone babysitting lost and lonely cell phones in the middle of the night, waiting to help me out in my continued quest for scientific advancement.
And, truth be told, I was glad she told me which Costco. You see, Costcos like me – but only from a cautious distance. There are currently two Costcos holding their positions equidistant from my house and I very well could have forgotten which one I attended that afternoon. “Two Costcos stalking you?” you gasp. That’s nothing. I once had three Costco’s arrange themselves in a triangular pattern, each 25 minutes from my house in opposite directions. They’re really quite remarkable creatures.
reasons: Magoo running to the laundry room with his arms outstretched to catch the dust flying from the lint trap as I change loads
