The Pocket Dial Irony

For those who didn’t read my post from last Sunday, I was out and about when I pulled my mobile phone out of my pocket to find that I pocket dialled someone and had been on a call with them or their answering machine for 1 minute and 48 seconds.

This assumes that they still have the same number that they had when I last spoke to them, but bare with me.

For those who haven’t been reading this blog since roughly January 2016, let me explain who it was I dialled.  We were really good friends having been on one date in November 2013.  One thing led to another and in February 2016 (for a lot of reasons that didn’t and don’t make any sense at all) she decided it was best not to speak to me again.

Despite advice to the contrary, I had always kept her number.  Partly, this was laziness.  I don’t go through my phone book deleting out numbers at the best of times.  I still have the number of a vicar I taught archery to and that would have been nearly 15 years ago.  I have no idea who “Neil” is, let alone “Minxy”, but I kinda want to find out about the latter now I’ve noticed!

The other reason I didn’t delete the number was in the vague hope that, at some point, it might be the right time for her and she might change her mind and want to make contact again, and I’d like to know that it’s her.  I’d also like to be able to speak to her at my own choosing, but I don’t think there’ll ever be a time where I would be brave enough to do that and where it would be appropriate.

So there was a certain irony about the pocket dial.  This was caused by the fact that her surname begins with an “A”, so I changed her name in my phone book to make it begin with an “X” so it was a long way down the list in an alphabetical realm I very rarely go to, but also not at the bottom thanks to my Chinese friend occupying the letter “Y”.  It was a complete fluke to pick her name out at all, and considering that I had been wanting to speak to her so much over the last 18 months, to contact her accidentally and not get to speak was rubbish.

In cancelling the call, I never actually put the phone to my ear to see if she was there.  If it was me, I don’t think I’d have listened to nearly 2 minutes of muffled pocket followed by a few seconds of crowded shop.  But what if she was on the other end of the line for all that time, knowing it was me ringing?

The Internet is awash with articles, no doubt, about what people would say to those they were unable to speak to – deceased relatives, those who left us broken hearted…  We’ve also seen TV shows such as One Night With Your Ex that put old flames together to discuss what went wrong and see what happens.

I often wondered what we would speak about if we spoke again.  There were lots of unanswered questions for me at the time, and so obviously still now.  I also now understand things better, so being able to talk about what happened would be good.

However, I actually started thinking a different way.  Had the events of November 2015 (when we had an argument because I was going out when she had work to do) hadn’t happened, what would we have been talking about on Sunday afternoon last week?

I think it would have been a normal conversation.  In one way, I’d have been complaining about the crowds in the shop.  In another way, she would be where she was, and I’d be where I was, doing what each of us would be doing wherever and with whomever that would be.

I realise that’s all very quantum, but every option is possible but also not possible because of arbitrary barriers, which still makes it suck a little for me.

So if you were to be able to talk to someone you had not spoken to for a while, how different do you things would be if you’d have not stopped talking in the first place?

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