Anne B. Walsh - Do you believe in magic?
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Anne's Randomness

The finding of the phone

Greetings, O readers! We haven't had a Why Do I Work Here Wednesday post for a while, and I've got quite a story to tell you today. I can't say that working at Glass Bathroom Bank is never dull, because there are some rather lengthy periods of boredom involved in most days, but I will say that I never know what to expect.

Today's story begins with a coworker I will call Barb, a very nice older lady, who came to my desk this afternoon upset because she could not find her cell phone. It happens to the best of us, but in this case Barb was truly mystified. She'd set her phone down in one of the stalls in the ladies' room, on top of the toilet paper dispenser, and forgotten it for about ten minutes, but when she came back to get it, it was no longer there. She thought possibly someone had picked it up and turned it in at my desk, but I had to tell her no, I hadn't seen it.

About half an hour later, I went into the ladies' room myself and found Barb there chatting with another coworker, Stephanie. Barb mentioned once again that she couldn't imagine where her phone had gone, and Stephanie looked surprised. "I heard something vibrating in here just a little while ago," she said. "I looked around to see if anyone else was here, but I was alone!"

I looked into the stall Barb had indicated she'd been using. It looked just the same as any other standard stall in a ladies' public restroom. One flush toilet, check. One toilet paper dispenser, dual-roll style, with a nice flat top for placing things, check. One wall-mounted metal receptacle for used feminine hygiene products, check...

The light bulb went off inside my head. I stepped into the stall, lifted the lid on the metal bin, and lo and behold there lay the missing cell phone. Fortunately the bin was not otherwise in use, and Barb was overjoyed to be reunited with her property.

However, there is something of a worrying note to this happy, if strange and slightly disgusting, story. I am highly skeptical that the phone could have ended up in that bin by accident. It seems far more likely that whoever came into that bathroom stall immediately after Barb had left saw the phone, wanted it, and stashed it in the handiest place available, intending to come back for it later today. I've known for a while that some of my coworkers feel no compunction about helping themselves to entire boxes of company-supplied coffee or pens, but taking someone's personal cell phone is a whole different story. My phone and tablet are going to be staying in my purse a lot more often from now on.

In other news, life is up and down as usual. The dogs are noisy and demanding, the cats live life on their own terms, and the zucchini are growing like mad. We've already harvested thirteen of them and the plants show no sign of stopping. The cherry tomatoes are also growing beautifully, and we got one single solitary cucumber from our poor munched-on vines (could have been groundhogs or rabbits sliding under the fence or deer jumping over it, who knows).

I'm greatly enjoying the one day a week I'm now working from home, but I'm afraid I have no good news to share in the realm of writing. My long-form stories have unionized and gone on strike until I can assure them that they will receive no more nasty destructive criticism and no more patronizing faint praise, and since those are the two responses most likely to happen to any published story anywhere at any time, I really don't see how we're going to work this one out. I'll keep you posted, O readers. Thanks for reading, and I'll try and have something ready for Fiction Friday!


2 Comments to The finding of the phone:

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NotACat on Thursday, August 06, 2015 1:07 AM
Eurgh! One can only assume that—should this be the true scenario—the malefactor was intending to sell it on rather than use it themselves, otherwise they would have found a less horrid place to stash it >_<
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lilyginnyrose on Saturday, August 08, 2015 11:42 AM
Urgh! People! You should think they have enough respect for a coworker (or anyone, actually) to leave their possessions alone.
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