The Power of My Phone
I’m in Vancouver and my phone rings. I look at it and reject the call. You see, it’s my San Francisco phone and it’s roaming so I’m not about to answer just any call – especially this one. It was a call from the front door of my apartment complex in SF. My brother is with me as I explain this.
“So you mean to tell me that you can open your apartment complex door, pretty much from anywhere in the world.”
“Uh – I guess so.”
The phone rings again. I reject it. Once more, I reject it.
“Who could it be? If it’s my friend, they’d just call me instead.”
The phone rings again. I can’t take it anymore. I need to know who’s so damn persistent at the door to my apartment complex.
“Hello? … No … I didn’t order any pizza.”
