Okay, here was the routine today. After working from home most of the day, I left in the early afternoon to pick up the kids from school, and continued working from their place.
When I left their place, I went to the range to put a hundred or so rounds downrange. As an aside, I noticed that my Remington 180 grain jacketed hollowpoints have a lot more muzzle flash than my Winchester 165 or 180 grain full metal jacket rounds. Anyway, I made a few little holes, and one really big hole, right in the middle. Good session.
Anyway, back to my point. I get home, take off my jacket, get my notebook computer out of the bag and set it up, put various other stuff away, and then I notice that my cell phone isn't in its holster. I look around the floor, but I don't see it anywhere. None of my roommates are home, and we all just use our cell phones, so there's no phone to call the kids or the range to see if my phone is there. Or, for that matter, to call my cell and see who answers. Grr.
It's almost eight, so I figure I'd better go ahead and eat dinner (it was frozen, ah, the bachelor life!) and watch a little bit of "Deal or No Deal," and decide I have to take some action. So I jump in the truck and go over to the kids' place to see if my phone fell out there, figuring if it wasn't there, I could call the range. Or the phone itself.
So I drove over to over to the kids', look around, and don't find the phone. Then I pick up their phone and call my cell number to see if someone might have it. It rings several times (it's set to vibrate first, then ring), and then...I hear my cell phone ringing. It seems to be coming from inside my jacket. I check my pockets — nothing. I look around — nothing. I unzip my jacket — nothing. Then Megan notices the glow from my waist, coming from inside my sweatshirt. My sweatshirt had dislodged my phone from its holster, but held it inside its waistband, where it had migrated over my belt buckle.
