Ok the title of this blog sounds worse then it actually is. Today I was shooting in Santa Monica, CA and while carrying three backpacks and a wardrobe bag unbeknownst to me I dropped my cell phone in the middle of the street. When I got into the studio I realized my phone was missing. I ran out to my car thinking I left my phone inside but alas it wasn't there. I figured I probably just threw it in one of my many bags and I'd find it later. When I got home I had emergency emails from my mom asking me if I was Ok.
Apparently, a man found my phone in the middle of the street and dialed my most recent call (which of course is my mum mum since I call her every single day) and he demanded money from her. She couldn't understand most of what he was saying because he was speaking spanish. My mom just kept telling this guy that the phone belonged to her daughter and wanted to know where I could met up with him to get the phone back. That idea freaked him out and he started screaming "Fuck you! Fuck you! You are going to call immigration on me aren't you?"
So I had my phone temperately shut off in fear that his whack job was going to call the entire world on my dime OR WORSE use up my text messages. I trucked to the local AT&T store where I walked out with a shiny new cell phone and blue-tooth ear peice for the discounted price of $505!!!
Why does this shit always happen to me?