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Sue Bruns: A typical retired couple’s morning conversation No. 1

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columns Bemidji, 56619

Bemidji Minnesota P.O. Box 455 56619

“Is that your cell phone ringing?’

“Maybe. Darn. Where is it?”

“It stopped ringing. I’m not sure. Is it in the bedroom?”


“No, not there. Oh, I think it’s in my purse.” (Dig, fumble, dig)

“No. Ah! I bet it’s in my coat pocket.” (Scramble. Open closet door. Check pocket.)

“No. Darn. Call me and I’ll try to track down the ring.”

“OK. Just a second. I have to find my phone, but first I need my glasses. Have you seen them?”

“On the dresser in the bedroom, maybe?”

“No, I’ve had them since then. I wore them when I went down to the mailbox to get the paper.”

“Oh, here they are. No, wait. Those are mine. Good thing. I would never have remembered leaving them in the bathroom.”

“Well, now that you can see, help me find mine.”

“Which door did you come in after you got the paper?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Well, think! They might be on the table by the front door or on the little dresser in the entryway.”

“Oh, here they are. I set them by the remote control when I turned on The Weather Channel.”

“Why did I need them?”

“You have to find your phone so you can call me so I can find my phone.”

“Oh, yeah. UH! I just remembered my phone is re-charging. The battery died this morning.”

“Well, you’ll have to call me from the landline then.”

“Ok. Hmmm. It’s not on its cradle. Where is it?”

“I haven’t seen it. Did you use it this morning?”

“Oh, yeah. Someone called when I was making breakfast. Who was that?”

“It doesn’t matter . Just remember where you set it when you were done.”

“I think I left it on the end table. Yeah. Here it is. Just a second. I’ll call you.”


“It’s not ringing.”

“This dumb phone. I don’t get … Oh. This isn’t the phone. It’s the remote. Ah, here’s the phone.”


“Well? It’s still not ringing.”

“What’s your number again?”

“It’s XXX-XXXX, I think. I don’t know. I never call myself. No, wait. That’s your number. Mine is XXX- XXYY.”

“Yeah, that sounds right. OK. I’m dialing. Or rather, I’m pushing the buttons. We don’t really dial anymore, do we? Even though we still say that.”

(Jazzy ring tone sounds. Repeats. Scramble, scramble, scramble. Phone screeches, indicating “Missed Call.”)

“Yah! I know I missed the call! Duh. Dumb phone. Hey, Honey, I still didn’t find it. Call me again.”

“Okay. At least this time I can just hit RE-DIAL, as if I were ‘dialing’ again.”

(Jazzy ring tone sounds again.)

“Aha! Found it. Hello?”

“Hi. What are you doing?”

“Just looking for my phone. You’ll never guess where I found it. It was in the porch. Now I remember. I had it in my hand when I went to let the dog out, but then I noticed the hibiscus really needed water, so I set down my phone when I went to get the watering can.”

“Okay. Well, I’m glad you found it. G’bye.”

“G’bye. Thanks. (Hangs up.) Well, I’ve got to get going. (To self) Purse? Check. Glasses? Check. Cell phone? Check. Brief case? Check. Coffee to go? Check. (To husband) I’ve got to be at a meeting in 20 minutes. See you later.”

“What time will you be back?”

“Probably around noon.”

“Okay. Want to walk the dogs with me when you get back?”

“Sure. Okay, I’m heading out now. See you later.”


(Door to garage closes.)

(Short pause.)

(Door to garage opens.)

“Honey? Have you seen my car keys?”