Saturday, August 22, 2009


I am sitting in a mobile phone droppage hot spot. I got a new phone last week, and the fact that it is scratch free pleases me. I get it out of my pocket and check the time. It's eleven thirty. Nice shiny phone. 

I'm sat on a park bench in Hove reading today's paper. My phone slithers out of my pocket and falls between the slats of the seat, hitting the concrete beneath with a ttthunk. I get up to retrieve it, scattering change across the pavement as I do it. I sit back down. 


I look up. A man walking by has dropped his phone. It doesn't bounce, but it immediately starts skidding across the paving towards a drain. He is quick, though - he scoops down to save it, smiling. He is a man of good humour. Self consciously I pat the phone in my own pocket. 


This one does bounce. I'm frankly astounded to see, moments later, a teenage girl with large-framed glass drop her mobile a couple of yards further along the path. The three points, if marked out, would form a pretty exact equilateral triangle. I furrow my brow and muse on this. Some sort of electro-magnetic dissonance in the area? Do people just drop their phones all the time?

I remove my mobile from my pocket - carefully - and take a good look at it. It has a scuff mark, like a small white bruise, on it's flank, and another further up at the top corner. 

I squint at it, trying to work out if I'm bothered. Then I move seats. 

No comments: