Call Back
We had met moments earlier after I overheard a worker at a local pizzeria tell this fellow that it was 10:45 AM.
I found this somewhat surprising since my phone said it was 9:45AM, which meant that either I was very late for my doctor’s appointment, or the pizza guy thought we were in Chicago.
I was pretty sure that I hadn’t left Brooklyn, so I turned around to this slightly built gentleman in his fifties and showed him my phone.
“It’s only 9:45AM,” I said.
He thanked me and explained that he had gotten rid of his cell phone after his best friend died.
“I don’t need it anymore,” he said. “No one calls me.”
I understand that a growing number of young people are getting rid of their cellphones to preserve their peace of mind, but it was painful to hear that someone had ditched his phone because he had no one to call.
I thought about my own list of friends, which is far too short.
I lost a great friend a few years ago when he cut me out of his life for reasons that I don’t think I will ever know. And just last year I lost another to suicide.
This fellow talked about the dearly departed and I mentioned that I had lost my parents many years ago.
“Do they ever come back to you?” he asked.
“Come back to me…?”
“Their spirits,” he said.
I told him no, that’s never happened to me. I’ve had dreams about my parents, but nothing beyond that.
By that time, we had reached my doctor’s office and had to part company. I wished him well, but now I regret not getting his contact information.
Rikki, Don't Lose That Number
I wanted to know more about his psychic experiences. I wanted to know about more him. And I can always use more friends.
But I find it difficult making that first move. I’m worried that I’ll look desperate or demented, or that I’ll be giving my number to a lunatic—like I’m one to talk.
It would have been so easy to give him my card and let him decide. But I didn’t and I don’t think he’ll be coming back.
Of course, some encounters are meant to be brief. We cross paths with someone and then we never seem them again.
Maybe those few moments were all we were meant to have.
But I did have a comeback of sorts on Friday, just after the stock market closed and I was getting off work.
My landline phone rang and the robot voice announced that it was Nathan Solomon, an elderly man I had “met” last month when he mistakenly called my house looking for his missing food delivery.
At the time, I was up to my eyeballs in work, and I had to rush him off the phone. Afterwards I felt guilty for being so thoughtless. The poor guy had no food, for God’s sake.
Now I was getting a chance to redeem myself.
“Hi, Mr. Solomon…”
“--I didn’t get my food today.”
Yes, that’s how our first conversation started. I explained to him again that it was the wrong number, that he was calling a private home and not a business or food pantry.
“What’s the name of the outfit you’re calling?”
“Food Delivery Service,” he said. “They’re in Sheepshead Bay.”
That didn’t sound accurate, but I searched for the name anyhow and got over 30 hits.
I was going to see if I could shorten the list by location, but Nathan told me not to bother.
“Take care,” he said.
I hope Nathan gets his food delivery service problem settled. And I hope my acquaintance from Wednesday recovers from the loss of his friend.
I hope he gets so many new friends he’ll have buy a new phone.
Comments
This one article I read said that Gen Z types are getting rid of their old phones and taking longer to replace them.
And when they're getting simple flip phones--non-smart phones--to avoid wasting all their time on social media.
Yes, it's pretty sad that there are so many lonely people in the world. Maybe I'll run into that fellow again.
Take care!
It was such a profound experience which I will never forget. And over the years, I have had moments of sensing my parents closely around me, as if they're watching over me.
Great post, buddy! It caused me to remember this. Have an awesome week!
Hey, Ron!
What a beautiful story! Thank you so much for sharing it. Isn't it amazing how the connection exists beyond death?
Take care, buddy, and thanks for stopping by!
The encounter you described about the man ditching a phone because no one ever calls him was so poignant, but after you spoke to him and he asked “ do they ever come back” I had goosebumps. There have been many times, I have wished to be able to have departed family and friends “come back” but regretfully they never have unlike Ron’s experience.
I hope that Mr Solomon does get his delivery and perhaps you will get to talk with him, one day.
And, we can all use friends. I am glad to count you as one too.
I most certainly consider you a friend--and I feel very lucky to have you.
Like you, I have wished for the departed to return, but it has yet to happen. Perhaps it will some day...
One note: The article I read actually said young people are ditching their smartphones in favor of less sophisticated models. I have updated the post to reflect this.
And, of course, I meant to say Dorothy instead of your nom de blog.