Not Enough Cents

I have my moments.  This was one of them. I hadn't the sense to come in out of the rain, so the saying goes.  Really.

The thing about rain on a bike is, you get wet.  Really wet.  Really, really wet.  It attacks from above and below.  And this was one of those rains.

Oh, you think I'm kidding.  Take a look at that picture.  That is what your phone looks like as it's about to fritz.  It didn't exactly die right there in my hand, but it might as well had.

It rained so hard...how hard was it? 

Ha, it rained so hard it turned my phone into a vibrator. No more calls, no more texts, no more pix.  Perfect.  What I needed was a phone, what I got was a no frill, cheap thrill, sex toy. I always thought the wet part came last.  The first pun was intended, the second accidental.

With a phone that did nothing but vibrate, I searched for a public pay phone.  They are obsolete dinosaurs now you know.  Back in the day I always kept a dime in my shoe.  Then a quarter in my Roos.  I knew numbers and I had the change to prove it.

But this day left me high and not so dry.  I finally found a pay phone and was itching to use it.  Problem was, after seven separate searches, all I found was forty-six cents.  Four cents shy of the inflated fee for a local call.

I guess I'll just take my vibrator and ride....intended.