In my haste to exit the house this morning, I simply could not find my phone. I thought I had left it on the coffee table. Nope. Perhaps I left it my pants pocket. Nope. Finally I get the bright idea to call the phone and chase down the noise (unless I left it on silent). It rings all the way through to voice mail. Damn.
Thirty seconds later, the house phone rings back – it’s the wife, on my phone, from her office. Seems she took it with her by mistake (we have the same phone). She was also in fits of laughter. My phone had rung while she was in a crowded elevator with some executives she didn’t know. She thought the ring tone sounded familiar, then realized she had taken my phone, and the phone was buried in the bottom of her tote bag where she couldn’t get to it.
So the whole elevator was treated to my ringtone: “Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangster” by The Geto Boys.