Mom knows best (Not this mom, but my mom)

On the Friday before Memorial Day I lost my phone.  It was a hectic end to the day with phone calls coming in, packing up my room, a math meeting, and general Friday-before-a-vacation-pandimonium.  Finally in the parking lot, I recalled the parent phone calls I had to make. Determined to not go back into the building, I opened up my laptop on the hood of my car to look up parent numbers and enter them into my phone.  I'd call them later.  Also, knowing I had to pack up a car and that my family was waiting for me to leave for the weekend made me all the more harried.  I didn't know it at the time, but I left my phone on the roof of my car and drove off.

I searched my car and my school and dumped out every bag I own several times.  I gave up.  The phone was gone.  I ordered a new one.  Yesterday, my new phone came and I promptly called Tracphone to set it up.

The kind woman with a slight Slavic accent told me that the number to my old phone had been changed and therefore I would not be able to use my old number.  A light went off in my mind.
"Will you give me the new number, please?" I asked.  I would call and see who the hell had my phone.

"Yes, but please, first you must answer a security question."

How the heck did whoever had my phone know the answer? I wondered.  In any case.  I gave the correct pin and was granted the information.

"(207) 616-8398," the Slavic lady replied.

"Thank you." My hands shook as I dialed the number.  Please don't let it be one of my students.  That would be so disappointing.

"Hello?" a man's voice answered.

"Hi.  This is Stacey.  Who am I speaking with?"

"This is Billy Peters."

"Hi Billy.  By any chance did you find the phone you are speaking on?"

"Yuh."

"Oh, well, that's my phone.  I lost it.  Can I have it back?"

"Yuh."

"Great!  That would be wonderful." (You stupid jerk, lowlife thief).  Deep breaths, I thought,  remember you get more bears with honey and all that...just get the phone.  "So, are you in the North Anson area?"

"Nope.  I'm in Fairfield."

At this point I should have offered to come get it, but did I?  No, of course not.  I never see the most direct path to anything.

"Oh, so if I give you my address will you mail my phone to me?"

"Yuh."

"Okay, good."  Why didn't this idiot just look in my contacts and call me? I wondered.  Ask nicely.  "Can I ask you a question? Why didn't you just call my home number listed in the contacts?"

"I didn't see any." Because he's dishonest or stupid or both!  Be patient.  Be kind.  Deep breath.

 I was about to give Billy my address but was feeling a bit doubtful of him following through. "Are you really going to mail it to me, or are you going to just keep my phone?"

"Ah, well, I can try, but I'm low income."

Then all my love-for-humanity-deep-breathing-calmness seeped out of me.  "Well, you should have just looked in the contacts and called the number labeled 'Home'! Then you wouldn't HAVE to mail it.  It IS MY phone, and you just KEPT it for weeks because you thought--what? Finders keepers? Give me a break----"

He hung up.  Great.

Full of indignation, I called my mom to share my outrage.  She listened, full of compassion as always, but then when I came to the part about grilling the guy about not calling me when he found the phone, my mom said, "Well, did you want to give him a lecture or get your phone?"

And there lies the crux of my problem with relating to people.  I have such a hard time not telling them what's what.  I tick people off  just to satisfy my own self-righteousness.  Lesson:  Keep the goal in sight.  Keep my ego in check.

Check.