To all of you who I have called accidentally

You now have nothing to fear!

I know the past two years I've been terrorizing some of you with the fact that my phone likes to dial out while being jostled about in a bag, purse or pocket. And I'd like to apologize.

"I didn't know I called you!" I'd protest. "Besides, you know how I HATE talking on the phone. If I ever had to get in touch with you I'd probably text or email you first."

Nonetheless, the phone would go on dialing. Maybe it was indignant I wasn't much of a phone talker. Maybe it was taking advantage of each pressing of the keys as it'd tumble in the darkness of my bag to call out on the off chance it'd lead to me pulling it out from its cacaphanous prison of loose change and thudding books. Hoping that I would talk on it when an unwitting victim would call back. It certainly felt that way when I knew -- DAMMIT, KNEW -- that I had put the key lock on yet the "recently dialed" list would betray to me the futility of it all.

Well, no more! For now, I have a flip phone. That's right. Fuck you old phone. I have finally triumphed over the phone tried so hard and failed to bring me out of me "awkwardness on the phone" shell.

...Yet I fear, that maybe, one night, before going to bed I will look over the call logs of my new phone and find myself chilled to the bone at the phantom numbers that I have never called silently shine onto my horrified visage. The eldritch horror of the powerful hunger from the phone long laid to rest.