I was riding the DC metro on Friday. When I got off the train, I found that my phone was longer on me. I ran back to watch the train pull away into the abyss. I continued on to my interview with a nonprofit NGO that deals with issues in developing West Africa (which is why Nikki and I have moved to DC - to do that kind of thing). When I got home I called my phone. Willie answered. I didn't understand most of what he said, but was sure to deny his request to meet him in District Heights to "exchange for my phone." Instead, I asked him to return it to the closest metro stop station agent and that I would retrieve it from lost & found. He agreed.
Later that night I checked my phone's usage online (technology is amazing - maybe I should wiretap myself!). I called the 4 numbers he had dialed and left a message with one Kendra of the Fantasy Pleasure Parties message. This turned out to be HIS sister (not mine) who kindly called back and informed that I should not expect to see my phone again; he was not the type to give things back. Sure enough, the next day he was racking up the minutes. I forwarded my number to Nikki's phone (again, awesome technology) and started getting several calls from people who seemed confused that a white boy was answering Willie's new number. I corrected the misinformation. Then went straight to Radio Shack to get my free upgrade phone from T-Mobile (I knew there was a reason I hadn't taken advantage of that yet - 9 months late).
Now I have a new phone that has a 2 mega-pixel video/camera that, for some reason, won't send pictures messages. Do I have to get some kind of media plan!? Oh well, it looks cool.
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