Dancing to the Loss of a Phone
I danced the night away several days ago in one of the popular clubs in Malate in Manila where the music thumps, bass pounds, and people slam. It was a great night of dance and fun. The dance floor reeked of its young crowd, all busy with each others groping in the dark. Until I felt–or unfelt–something: my phone was snatched out of my pocket.
Thus, I lost my Smart Amazing phone, that phone that amazingly hangs and processes information as slow as a 386 computer model. I was calm though, thinking that getting an obsolete phone robbed was a good reason for a hastier processing of getting a different mobile unit [I have recently changed my company and I am waiting for a new Nokia phone]. At any rate, I danced the night away without lament on the loss of my phone. Until I realized that several contact numbers of people I find special went with the loss of it. Alas, I lost the number of X, the person I met just recently. The one with whom I should have gone badminton, ate dinner, and drank a cup of coffee.
The night was beginning to turn into a nightmare. The music angrily beat, the rythm pounded with angst, the crowd grew wildly rowdy. Aaarggghh! Sigh. Let’s just dance to the beat of the drum.
