It was 1997, mid-summer, late afternoon, clear skies, I traveled in the right hand lane of a four lane highway on my way home from work. A few minutes earlier a truck had dropped some debris on the road. One car drove over the debris and flipped it up into the air whereupon it smashed into the grill of a semi. The debris exploded into smaller pieces which bounced underneath the semi. As I was directly behind the semi, one of those pieces hit the underside of my car.
It wasn’t a loud thump, and to be honest, my first thought was to ignore it and keep going. But the semi immediately pulled over to the shoulder, and something told me I should follow it. I’m glad I did. I stopped the car, opened the door and heard the sound of gasoline gushing from my punctured gas tank. Scared the crap out of me. I grabbed my purse and got as far away from the car as possible. The semi driver had it worse though, the debris shredded the entire front of his grill and probably the radiator.
This particular stretch of highway ran through a reservation, there were no exits, no houses, and no pay phones for miles. The semi driver had a CB radio, of course, so either way we would have been fine, but he also had a cell phone which is what he used to call the police, and what I used to call AAA.
At that point, I only knew a few people who had cell phones. It hadn’t occurred to me to get one. I just didn’t want to be that reachable.
That event on that long, lonely highway changed my mind forever. The first thing I did, after getting my car back, was go out and buy a cell phone. It, and its subsequent replacements, has never left my side since.
Yes – I even bring it into the bathroom. You never know when the next emergency might strike!
Daily Prompt: Call Me, Maybe -
Describe your relationship with your phone. Is it your lifeline, a buzzing nuisance, or something in between?