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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.”