Enemies & Disowned Family Calling Plans

Waiting for my phone to be repaired, I completed level after level of Angry Birds on a sample phone at the local U.S. Cellular store. The repair had been needed for nearly a year, but I never found the time until today when an unforeseen interwebs outage at work resulted in a freebie afternoon to run wild. Some spent the free time sleeping or shopping. I spent my bonus three hours getting the stubborn bird diarrhea washed off the roof of my vehicle and getting my phone fixed. Lesson: Don't park under trees.

A mother and daughter entered the store and the mother disgustedly told the employee that her daughter lost her phone. "No, she lost it," she repeated. At this point I really wanted to ask if they tried calling it, but I was engrossed in my game and another man's story.

While I was developing a clinical addiction to the cell phone game phenomenon, a gentleman who looked to be in his early forties entered the store. Being the nosy multi-tasker I am, I eavesdropped to hear about his dilemma as I fought off kids from using the phone.

"I need to change the password on my account," he explained to one of the representatives.

"I purchased two phones and gave one to a friend...a roommate of mine," he corrected himself. "He has since moved out and I gifted the phone to my uncle."

The uncle apparently isn't living with him. I was disappointed that the man couldn't use the word "bequeath" in this context. I didn't get the impression this was an amicable parting of ways. It seemed like a "you took my CDs jerk face" sort of situation.

Truthfully, I was surprised the roommate didn't yoink the phone. Maybe it was a flip phone. It musn't have had Angry Birds installed on it. I'd stay in a relationship, no matter how intolerable, solely to continue playing that game. The roommate disappoints me. Based on the large amount I know about this partnership, it seems his subtle va te faire foutre was to not write down the four-digit password for the voicemail box. The poor uncle now has no idea why people wanted to reach him. What if he won a time share in Florida? What if a radio station was trying to reach him about a contest he won? A long-lost Nigerian royal relative perhaps is trying desperately to contact him.

If I have learned one thing from daytime television it is to never, ever give a cell phone to a friend or family member. Sure. It seems like a great idea. Maybe it costs you $10 and you split minutes you'll never use. Win-win. You look like a big shot UNTIL you decide to rescind your gift and all your Joni Mitchell albums are missing.

The repair person called my name and gave me my fixed phone.

There are times I wonder what I miss while toiling away at the office. Then there are moments like these when I'm reminded how great it can be to spend an hour in the wild.

The Art of the Self-Invite

I have no qualms about inviting myself to your party. Let's be honest, you simply forgot to check my name when you were sorting through your contact list. No big deal. I could see how that happened. I'm not offended. I'll still show up with a beverage or snack item.

If any of the following sound reminiscent or have happened to you, fret not:

• Your coworkers come in on Monday and talk about their scurrilous weekend together
• Your Facebook feed is dominated by parties you weren't invited to
• Perhaps you Photoshop yourself into group shots

If you often find yourself on the uninvited list (also known as the shit list), there's a simple solution. All you need is the address. Yes, there will be some uncomfortable moments. You may get some doors closed in your face--think of the back door as a second opportunity. If you've brought some beer or medium-tier fermented beverage, the collective thirst of the group will outweigh their disdain for you. Initially it might be wise to avoid glass containers. Alcohol is to a party what beads and shells were to the Native Americans. (As an aside, the Native Americans were the first group to truly know the joys of gentrification.)

In no time you'll be known as "that guy who shows up." Use Twitter and social networks as your tools. Don't think of it as stalking. As soon as they hit publish, it's public information. I'm not sure about the legality of this, but it sounds solid.

Once you've mastered this, the brass ring is the wedding invite. Instead of booze, you'll want to bring a toaster or kitchen appliance. Don't over do it and get a Kitchen-Aid, then you'll get invited to everyone's wedding and go broke. I will take this opportunity to announce that should you be in the greater metropolitan Chicago area, I may be able to lend my services, but I will need a formal invite.