I’m transferring my numbers from my old cell to my new one today. I could have paid the Verizon guys $10 to do it but they couldn’t also port my pictures or be otherwise useful–so I chose to make it a chore I’d do myself. (I love Vz’s phone customer service but their stores leave a LOT to be desired.)
What struck me as I’m going through and adding entries is how confident I am. I don’t worry about having the wrong number for all but a slight number of people—even the people I’ve not spoken to in the past year. We’ve all moved to almost primarily cell phones and with portable numbers, we’ve all stayed with our numbers over the years. I can call a cousin I haven’t seen since last Christmas and be relatively sure that when the phone rings, he’ll be at the other end.
I’ve had a cell phone for five years. In that time, I’ve moved from Indiana to New York, lived in three apartments in New York, moved to Chicago and now to Wisconsin. I’ve had two cell phone numbers–total. If I was relying on land lines, my number would have changed at least four times. I can’t imagine having to call 100 people and tell them my number has changed every time I pack up my books. It would probably make me more selective about whose numbers I would keep, but I like having everyone in there–just in case. It makes it possible for my former supervisor at the theater to call me at 9 p.m. on a Thursday night to ask “Is that his fiance on ER?” and we then have a chance to discuss that it isn’t and the actor in question is now single.
The important stuff.
But I do like the continuity it gives…and heaven help me and tons of others if the Blonde ever changes her number. She’s had it since at least 1999 and it’s one of the few I can still dial with my eyes shut.