If you read my post about the lovely people at Viberstore. You’ll know that Buddy and Stepson number 2 are about to get their first iPhones.
This fills me with dread. Regular readers and Twitter followers will know my mobile phone has a shelf life of about 3 – 6 months! Before it gets broken, invariably the screen gets smashed off the concrete! Fingers crossed they take after their Mother. Her phones last for ages!
It’s nothing new. Way back in the early Noughties when mobiles were just becoming widespread I was frequently losing or breaking them. I left my Ericsson flip phone in the back of a taxi after a night on the tiles. In my defense it was tiny!
Perhaps the best story of a lost phone of mine is the one I’m about to tell you.
It was the beginning of Summer 2002.
I was in a job I had liked, until the manager left and was replaced with someone who I didn’t see eye to eye with. In January I’d split up with the rebound girlfriend after the previous one had called off the wedding, the year before. The world cup was about to start in South Korea, a change was in order.
I’d toyed with the idea of holiday repping some years before. I contacted a tour operator with my CV looking for a job for that season. Within 3 weeks I was on a plane to Corfu. At the ripe old age of 27 I was about to become the oldest rep on the Island. Ipsos here I come.
All went well. Watched some football, had a few drinks, made some friends and did some work. There were some mishaps, obviously. This is me we’re talking about. I might tell you some of them another day. If you can’t wait, pop over to the wonderful award-winning Prabs site and read my #OopsFile post.
Anyway back to the phone story. A friend of mine had told us that Tony Hadley of Spandau Ballet fame was playing at a club in Kavos and they were taking a group of holiday makers down to see him. A couple of other workers said they were going to hire a car and go down to watch him, but wouldn’t be staying as they had work the next day. I asked was there room for me and it was sorted. I was going to Kavos, the party resort of the Island.
At my weekly cashing up meeting with my manager she told me I had training the next day so didn’t have to do hotel visits. Result. I could go to Kavos drink
loads some Ouzo and not have to get up early.
Fed, showered and in our best clobber off we went to Kavos.
Had a few drinks on the strip first and headed to the club. Red Vodka’s, Ouzo and Flaming Sambuca’s were all consumed. I bumped into the reps from my company who said they had a free bed in their apartment and were heading up for the training so I could crash at theirs and get a lift with them the next day. Result!
I’m a lightweight so felt a bit tipsy after all this drinking. I wandered out to the beach to get some fresh air. Not before getting one of the girls numbers so if we got separated I could ring to find out where their apartment was. See not completely stupid! There was a beach fire going and sun beds arranged around it, with people chatting. I plonked myself down on one and joined in.
The next thing I knew was waking up to the beautiful Kavos sunrise.
All alone on the beach. I went back into the club, where the only person about was a cleaner, sweeping the floors. I got my phone out my pocket and headed for the doors to the street, getting the number ready to call. Not paying attention to where I was going was my first mistake. This caused me to stumble down the step and drop my Nokia 3310, the original not the remake, which as they were want to. Split into three pieces, front cover, back cover and the actual phone bit. I bent down and picked up the front cover as it was closet to me. The back cover and phone were further away and a Greek chap on a moped stopped to pick these up. I walked over and handed him the front cover.
He put it back together and then sped off down the strip with my phone in his hand. I limped after him, (I’d twisted my knee falling down the steps) calling him the few Greek swear words I’d learnt. I still remember them!
So there I was, with €2 to my name. No phone to ring the reps and find out where there apartment was, a busted knee and wearing clothes for clubbing not for a day in the Greek heat!
I used one Euro to ring a friend to get the phone cancelled as it was a contract phone and the other to ring my boss. How did I get back to my resort? You’ll have to come back another day when I share that story.
But as you can see mobiles and me don’t mix. Perhaps I need one on a string like my mother did with my gloves as a kept losing them!